Eclipse
by PurplePirateofProcrastination
Summary: When a fading Titan and one of the big three come together to have a child, Perseus is the result. A being that is neither God nor demi-god, but rather cursed to be forever in-between. Enemies will do anything to get their hands on the perfect 'tool'. In the end however, not even time itself can keep they who were meant for each other apart. Perzoë.
1. Chapter 1

"In the beginning there was nothing. God said, 'Let there be light!' And there was light. There was still nothing, but you could see it a whole lot better."

~Ellen DeGeneres

* * *

 _Prologue_

 _Ancient Greece – Date Unknown_

"…It's a boy."

The screaming ceased, and heavy panting took its place. The deliverer handed her the bundle of joy. For there, in her very arms, was a tiny miracle and the mother could not help but smile. Deep inside, however, there was a pang of regret, for she knew her child would not have an easy life.

"He's beautiful," she said, temporarily forgetting that regret. He may not have an easy life ahead of him, but she would do everything possible to make sure he had a happy one.

"What do you wish to call him?"

The mother averted her gaze momentarily. He would need luck, of that she had no doubt.

"Perseus…I pray to the Gods above that your name brings you fortune and a happy ending."

The baby before her gradually opened his eyes, and the mother could not help but smile even wider than before. Two bright orbs stared back at her, full of life and full of spirit. One of deep sea green, the essence of an unbridled spirit. The other of shining silver that screamed resolve.

"He is beautiful."

The voice broke her motherly stupor and she turned her head towards the doorway. An ocean breeze filled the room, and with it, the smell of the sea. She smiled yet again when she saw who it was. He walked to her bed and knelt by her side, his own deep green eyes seemingly glowing in the dimly lit room. The mother handed her new born into the man's waiting arms, her eyes fixated on his. His face screamed happiness and love, yet, he knew the serenity would not last.

His smile dropped momentarily but he didn't turn away. "I must leave. If I stay any longer, you will be found."

The mother turned to her lover and had to stifle a sob. She knew this day would come, but she didn't think it would be so soon. It certainly hadn't made it easier for her with such knowledge.

"I wish we had more time together, but I cannot risk losing you, and our son. It will be difficult enough to hide him, even when I am gone." A forlorn look had taken its hold, and it was his turn to stifle a sob. The mother gave him a small smile. She had lived thousands of years. She understood completely.

He kissed his sons forehead, leaned over, and then kissed his lovers forehead. A wave of warmth and a sense of hope overcame the mother. He handed the baby over and stood up.

"Know that I will always be watching over you and our son. The sea will provide refuge should you ever need it." He held out his hand and a silver relief of the sea god's trident appeared.

"When the time is right, give this to him, and reveal his lineage. Until that time, you must do everything you can to hide him from my brothers and those who may try to manipulate him. They must never find him."

Her eyes were red, and she looked exhausted, but again, she smiled. "I grow weaker with every passing day. I have put my last reserves of strength into this baby and I can feel myself tiring. It's only a matter of time before I myself, leave as well. But I will do everything for him. He is my life now, short though it is becoming. He is my legacy. I will not fail him."

The green eyed god smiled. Her fiery determinism was the reason he loved her. It was time, however. He began to dissipate into a thin veil of mist.

"I must leave, lest my presence or rather, lack thereof be noticed…again. I love you, with every ounce of my being."

"I love you too, forever, and always," came the reply.

And just like that, he was gone, leaving the ever fading mother alone with a new born child. _His_ new born child.

* * *

 _6 Years Later_

" **Perseus Orion Euryalis!** "

He flinched when he heard his full name. The door seemingly felt the same way because it almost parted from its hinges when she opened, or rather, bulldozed her way into his room.

All colour drained from his face but he did not run, like a lesser being would.

"Yes mother?" came the innocent reply.

"Don't play dumb with me, mister. I know all about your antics in Poseidon's temple."

If looks could kill, Perseus would definitely be riding Charon's boat right now.

"It wasn't my fault," he protested, "The water just leaped out of the fountain and drenched the priests. It had nothing to do with me, I swear!" His eyes shone with a fiery passion, and his mother softened slightly; her own silver eyes sparkling.

"You'll be the death of me one day, Perseus." She sighed and sat on the edge of his bed, next to her son. His feet suddenly became very interesting.

"One day, all will become clear to you, and new doorways shall open, but for now, I wish you to meet someone."

The boy looked up and saw, in the doorway, a curious 30 year old man with a face plastered with scars. He was short, and not overly muscular, but Perseus could tell this man could pick him up and throw him around as if he were a feather. His brown eyes gave off an aura of warmth and Perseus could not help but smile.

"These are troubling times Perseus. I could not bare the thought of losing you…Pholus is an old friend of your fathers. He will teach you everything he knows."

Perseus looked at the man quizzically. "How do you know my father?" the boy said.

Pholus faltered for a second. "I…I fought alongside him once, long ago."

Perseus tilted his head slightly, but seemed satisfied with the answer. The boy stood up, walked to the towering man. Pholus gazed at the boys green and silver orbs. _'Just like his parents,'_ he thought.

After a small pause, the trainer held out his hand. Perseus's eyes shifted to his mother's for a split second, but met the man's hand with his own. The trainers strong, firm grip surprised Perseus, but he hid it, and stared attentively at the man's eyes. After what seemed like an eternity, the trainer spoke up and a big grin took its hold.

"So, Perseus, have you ever held a sword before?"

* * *

 _Ancient Greece - 10 Years Later_

Pholus and Perseus collided with tremendous force and a resonating clang travelled for miles around. It was trainer versus student. Perseus's knives versus Pholus's celestial bronze sword.

They broke off and circled each other for several moments. Perseus knew speed would be key here. Pholus was large, and at times, clumsy. His eyes narrowed and he charged once more, feigning left but sliding under his trainers legs at the last moment and producing a sizable cut on his trainers ankle. Pholus fell to his knee, grabbing his wound, but he brushed off the pain. It would heal, in time, of course. He stood, and it was now his turn to narrow his eyes.

The veteran trainer charged, sword held high, and swung downwards, meeting his students raised knives. The boy of 16 quickly countered, swinging at his trainers exposed stomach. The blade missed by mere centimeters. Perseus did not relent though, slashing faster than the eye could see. He was built for speed and stamina, not power. His trainer could barely keep up, and realising it, made a last ditch effort to revert the situation. He parried one of Perseus's knives with such force that it was knocked out of his hand, and bought his sword down, as if to cleave the child in two. Perseus was un-fazed, however, and simply rolled out of the way of the powerful attack, cutting his mentor's thigh in the process. With a powerful kick, the trainer was dropped to the ground, flat on his face. Perseus levelled his remaining knife at the back of his trainer's neck.

"Yield?"

"I yield," came the muffled reply.

Perseus smiled, and joined his mentor on the ground.

"Bested again Pholus. Are you ill?"

"Ha! Not ill, Perseus. You are simply too good for me."

Pholus could not be more proud of his student; the culmination of almost non-stop training for 6 years. His stamina had increased greatly but he had much to learn about the world and what it contained.

"So what next Pholus?"

"Nothing. I have taught you everything I know, which, I fear, will not be enough for you to get through life. You must seek out Chiron on Mount Pelion. Should he deem you worthy, he will teach you a great deal. More than I ever could."

Though his face was passive, his eyes betrayed the pang of guilt he felt. Pholus was not the greatest of fighters, and there was only so much he could teach the young boy. Chiron would feel the void, and turn him into a real man.

Perseus grinned. He had been waiting for this day for a long time, though he duly recognised his training was far from complete. His euphoria didn't last long however, when he remembered his ailing mother. The past years had been hard on her, and he himself doubted she would last the season. The question of what he would do should she pass into Hades' realm lingered in his mind.

But he pushed those thoughts to one side. Dwelling on what is to come would not help him. It was the here and now that mattered. Still…

They sat there in the dirt, in complete silence, for several moments, before the trainer rose, and pulled Perseus to his feet.

"Go home and rest, but be ready to leave in 5 moons. It will be a long journey, and you must be prepared."

It was pitch black when Perseus arrived at his home. They had moved to a more secluded area several years back, though Perseus never fully understood why. He did remember his mother saying they'd be safer in the middle of nowhere. Safe from what, he had no idea. The moon was very dim, as it had been for several cycles. As if the moon itself was fading from existence. Perseus frowned. He had always felt a personal connection to the moon, and his mood seemed to reflect this. He was always at his best during the night of a full moon; as if he and the moon were one and the same. Recently, however, with the moon ever dimming, he had felt quite low. He tired more easily, and had a shorter fuse.

 _Not low enough to be defeated by Pholus_ , he thought, wryly, as he wound his around the paths leading up to his home. The house itself wasn't particularly grand. It was old and crumbling in places, without the tentative care of Perseus's mother.

He paused at the door, readying himself. It hurt deeply to see his mother bed-ridden. In days gone by she was vivacious, and active, with her lone nightly walks which only seemed to end come sun-up. Now though, she rarely left her bed.

He straightened his tunic; an exercise in futility, considering it was caked in dirt, took a deep breath, and opened the door. Several candles provided some light, but it was still very dark. Coupled with the eerie silence, one could be forgiven for thinking that some was amiss. But this was normal, or rather, became normal when his mother became too ill to stand. The house had definitely seen better days.

Perseus crept silently, inching ever close to his mother's room. He did not want to shock her. She was frail enough as it is.

A floorboard creaked and groaned underneath his foot, just as he got to his mother's door.

A lone whisper sounded from inside. "Is someone there?"

Perseus cursed himself. "It's me, mom. I'm home."

He opened the door to find his mother in her usual place; a small wooden armchair, placed parallel to the room's only window. She was looking out at the moon, though, there wasn't much to see. A lone candle lit up the room, and even in the gloom, Perseus could see she was pale. She looked like she had aged 30 years since this morning, though he rid himself of that thought. _Must be the lighting._ He stood there in the doorway, fixated on his mother.

"You almost gave me a heart attack, you know."

"Sorry mom, I-"

She cut him off before he could continue. "Relax, Perseus, I'm not dead yet."

The silence was deafening. Perseus couldn't tell if she was joking or not.  
They said nothing for a while, until his mother broke the deadlock.

"We must talk about something very important. Something I've been keeping from you for a long, long time."

Perseus almost flinched. He didn't know why he was so nervous, but tension had filled the room, thick.

"Is this about da-"

She, again, cut him off before he could finish. "Now, now, Perseus. There will be time for questions later. Right now though, you must listen, and listen well, for I don't have much time."

She paused, as if collecting her thoughts, or finding some metal.

"I am not who I say I am. But, before I continue, please understand, Perseus, I did this for your own good, as did your father. Everything we have done has been for your well being. Perhaps I have been selfish, keeping you away from a proper life, but I have no regrets about your birth. I only wish we had more time together. But I digress. My name is not Euryale and I am not the daughter of Minos. My name is Selene, Titaness of the moon. Now, before you get on your knees and grovel at my feet, yes, I am your mother. I did not lie about that. You are, and always will be my son."

Perseus did feel the sudden urge to kneel before the deity, even she was his mother, but he stopped himself. He simply stood in the doorway, shocked, confused, and slightly hurt. It did explain his attraction to the moon. _I deserved to know sooner but…I guess it does explain my attraction to the moon_ , he thought.

As if sensing his hurt, she spoke again. "The harsh reality is you were never meant to exist."

 _Ouch._ Perseus felt that one.

"But I stand by what I said. I have no regrets. I am proud to call you my son. Now, I'm sure you have many questions. Ask away. I am ready for the onslaught."

Perseus hesitated. This was a lot to take in. _If my mother is Selene, who is my father?_

"Who is my father?" he repeated aloud.

"Ah, of course you'd ask that." She paused for a couple of seconds before continuing. "Your father is Poseidon, God of the Sea's."

Perhaps deep down Perseus knew that already. There had been so many signs, looking back on his life. Not to mention how at home he felt in the water. His eyes as well. He had always thought it was a bit strange to have an eye of sparkling silver, and the other deep sea green.

"So, does that make me a God?"

"Not quite. You see, when you were conceived, I was already weakened. I put every ounce of my remaining power into creating you. Unfortunately, it was not enough to create a fully blooded God. You are only ¾ of a God. More than your standard Demi-God, but as you've found out many times, your blood is red, not golden. This is actually a blessing in disguise. Since you are not a God, you are above the ancient laws, while still containing large swathes of power. You are the best of both worlds, if you will."

 _That certainly is eye-opening,_ Perseus thought. He was still standing in the doorway. His hands had started to shake uncontrollably, so he gripped both together. This was a lot to take in.

"I have one more question," he said, his voice almost a whisper now.

"I thought as much, ask away, son," was the reply he received.

He suspected he knew the answer to this question, but he had to know for sure. The concept of mortality was not alien to him, and he had heard about Gods being killed before, as contradictory and unlikely as that sounded.

"Why now? You could have told me at any time in the last 10 years or so, why now, on this particular night?"

"Greece is crumbling, Perseus. It has been happening for years. Rome shall rise, while Greece shall fall and with it, Western Civilization shall shift. The Greek pantheon as we know it shall change. The Gods will follow the flame of civilisation to wherever it burns brightest. The place where the flame now burns brightest is Rome. Unfortunately, the moon, and with it, the sun simply aren't revered in Rome as they are over here. Thus, my fate has been sealed. With less and less worship, I grow weaker. The time shall come where I cease to exist in this plain. That time is tonight. I can feel it. With every passing second I am drawing ever closer to the end."

All of a sudden, the world seemed to crash down upon Perseus's shoulders. They had mere hours left. He sank to the floor, his knee's failing him. This was too much for the boy. _First my mother tells me she's a goddess and then she tells me she will cease to exist, come sun up. Tough break._

"What would you have me do, mother?"

"I cannot say, it is for the fates to inform you. Just know that the path ahead of you is un-clear, and un-defined. It would seem your fate is yet to be written. Beware though, for Zeus and Hades will surely want you dead, to spite your father. You must stay clear of them, whatever the circumstances. Above all, be careful with whom you place your trust with. You are powerful Perseus, more than you may ever know. People will want that power. You must not let anyone control you. The sea shall not be contained."

That was another shock for Perseus. _Free reign certainly is an exciting prospect…No, I mustn't think of this right now,_ he thought. He silently berated himself for forgetting what was going on. The thought of sinister beings trying to control him also crossed his mind. _Surely he wasn't that_ _powerful?_ He thought of his father as well, and couldn't help but get slightly angry.

"Did he ever love me?"

"Your father? Of course he did. He still does, in fact. You may not fully understand his reasons for leaving, but you will. Someday, you'll understand."

Perseus knew that was all he was going to get on the matter, so he dropped it, though thoughts still lingered.

"Now, it's very late. You must get some rest. It has been a long day for you, and I'm sure you'd like some alone time. Know this though, when you wake up, I will be gone."

Perseus nodded, solemnly. _This is it._ It took every ounce of Perseus's strength not to cry. He wouldn't do that to his mother. He loved her too much for that. He had to be strong.

"I love you, mom." His voice cracked, tears seriously on edge.

"Know that wherever you are in world, whatever you doing, whoever you are with, I shall remain a part of you, the moon shall remain a part of you. Go now, my son, sleep."

His eyes grew heavy, but he managed to lift himself off the floor, and into his bedroom, before collapsing on his bed. Before he drifted into Morpheus's realm, it occurred to him that even in the face of a fate worse than death, his mother had maintained her calm resolve, and put on a brave face, never once portraying anything over than love for her son. She did not look away from the ever dwindling moon once.


	2. Chapter 2

**I'm sorry.**

* * *

Suicide is man's way of telling God, "You can't fire me - I quit."

~Bill Maher

* * *

 _Perseus_

The dream was strange. Or rather, different to what Perseus was accustomed to. There was never a night where there wasn't a dream. They were never completely the same, but more often than not, they involved him being killed in gruesome ways. The only thing all the dreams had in common, apart from his inevitable death, was the killer. The pain, as well, seemed only too real, and Perseus often woke up to find scars covering his body, only to disappear a second or two later. As such, kneeling on a cold marble floor in relative lightness was certainly a change in scenery. Usually he was on a torturing rack in some forsaken dungeon, while his killer raked a scythe across his bare chest. It would've been a welcome change if Perseus was actually conscious, able to move, and the 3 old ladies standing in front of him were absent. But they weren't.

They stood over him, and while Perseus couldn't see their eyes, he could see them smirking at him, as if determining the worst way he could possibly die. They were all dressed in dirty rags and their exposed flesh was heavily burnt. The first was carrying a spindle. The second, a staff. The third, a pair of shears. Perseus knew instantly who they were. He would have stood up and bowed, but his muscles wouldn't let him.

They did nothing, and said nothing, merely staring down at the boy in front of them who could do nothing but stare back. _Perhaps they're attempting to set me on fire without touching me,_ the boy thought.

The three hags seemingly perked up at that and all three spoke in unison. "That can be arranged, if you so wish it, Perseus."

 _Huh. Apparently they can read thoughts._

The hags said nothing this time, only, the first began spinning and the second began chanting in a language he didn't recognise. The third merely remained still. Perseus knew what they were doing. They were casting the die, determining someone's life. Or rather, they weren't. The first stopped spinning and the second leaned over to the third. They seemed to have a conversation, though he could not hear what was said. The third smiled and raised her shears, the second held out a short length, about a foot long. The cut was audible, and Perseus's life up until now flashed before his very eyes. His birth, his father, his childhood, his training and his mother. Memory after memory. Flash after flash. It stopped as early as it began, but it felt like a lifetime for Perseus, and in some ways it was. His head hurt. Badly. _And here I was thinking I wouldn't be tortured for once…_

The third spoke up. "So you're here…"

She held out the string she had cut. It was glowing silver, bright enough to light up the room. She knelt down and wrapped it around Perseus's wrist.

"Keep it safe, for whoever holds that string, controls you, and the power you hold. Trust no one and tell no one," the second said.

"Be warned, Perseus. We are unable to kill you, but that doesn't mean you can't die. This is a curse you shall bare until the end of time. We will be in touch, Perseus," the first mused.

All three now spoke, "Now, **wake!** "

* * *

Perseus shot up from his bed. His heart was pounding and he was panting heavily. His head still hurt. But he sat up, and noticed the string tied around his wrist. It was no longer glowing, and it didn't look particularly special, but somehow it felt apart of him, tied to his very soul. His head suddenly jerked back. Memories of last night came flooding back and for a moment, he was too scared to move, afraid of what he would, or rather, wouldn't find should he leave his room. His eyes began to water, and it took all his willpower to prevent tears from flowing. However, before he could snap out of it, a noise coming from the kitchen area did it for him. His heart almost shot out from under his skin. _Was she alive?_ The smell of pancakes filled his nostrils.

Still wearing the same clothes he wore yesterday, he jumped out of his bed and legged it towards the kitchen. _Yesterday seemed all too real, but was it just some sick joke? Was she still alive?_ She wasn't. Or at least, she wasn't the one cooking. Perseus froze in the kitchen doorway. Before him was a man, 6'5", tanned, with long black hair and a beard to match. He wore an apron over white, regal robes, but it was his eyes that shocked Perseus the most. Deep sea green, just like Perseus's own right eye. They were dull, empty of life, and even with the long hair, Perseus could tell he had been crying very recently. Leaning against the table was a giant fork, about 5' long. A trident, Perseus remembered. _Strange weapon…_

The mystery intruder hadn't noticed Perseus, who felt it was time to make his presence felt.

"Who are you and what are you doing in my mother's home?"

The man jumped, almost dropping the plate he was carrying. Both of them locked eyes. Perseus's hand drifted to the knife attached to his belt, though if it came to a fight, he suspected this man would wipe the floor with him, judging from the size of his biceps. The man seemed to radiate power, as well as sadness. His eyes seemed to light up upon gazing at the boy before him, though Perseus could tell the sadness was still there. Perseus could sense something else in his eyes too. _What was it? Guilt? Regret? Happiness?_

"Perseus…", the man whispered.

 _So he knows my name. Perhaps he's a friend of my mother's…_

There was a pause. Perseus looked him over once more. The man was tense, that much he could tell, but those eyes… He saw something very similar every time he saw his own reflection.  
Perseus broke the silence;

"I asked, who are you, and what are you doing in my house, not what my name is."

Perseus brushed his fingers over the knife on his belt once more, but the man remained stoic, despite Perseus's harsh tone, and his threatening posture.

The man opened his mouth to speak, but he seemed hesitant, as if scared of revealing something.

"I am your…I am…I was a good friend of your mother's. She contacted me several months back…I…came as soon as I could…"

Perseus removed his hand from the knife he was clutching. He did not trust this man, but he wouldn't be here if his mother hadn't told him at least something. They stood there for several moments before Perseus's shoulders slumped, realising the circumstances for this man being here.

"So…my mother? She's really…gone?"

"I…yes, she's gone…"

Perseus swallowed hard upon the muttering of those words. It felt as if he had been stabbed in the heart. His mother was his life, powerful goddess, or not. She had been there when he needed her. Now she was gone. There would be no body to bury. No grave to weep over. She was simply gone from this plane of existence. No matter was spared.

The man seemed to be struggling as well. He turned and continued to slave over the counter. Perseus was sure that he was crying, but he cared not. The motherless boy turned and exited the kitchen.

He walked to his mother's room, and opened the door slightly, peeking inside. Everything was orderly, just the way it had been last night. He walked in slowly, taking it all in. It was all very simple, though, as Perseus had learned, she was modest; a rarity amongst deities, Perseus assumed.

On her neatly made bed, Perseus noticed, was a folded letter. He tentatively picked it up, afraid of ripping it. He opened it, slightly anxious of its contents, and began reading.

 _Perseus,_

 _This is my final message to you. I wish we could have spent the whole night talking. I had a lot to say to you, but, alas, I did not want you around when it happened. Why? I wish I could say it was to protect you, to stop you from witnessing such things, but no. I admit it was for my own selfish reason. Facing death is not easy, Perseus. Facing non-existence; even harder. Having you around would have made me beg for more time. That is something I could not let happen. I am, or rather, was, an all-powerful Titaness, but even we deities are slaves to our emotions, just as mortals are. Besides, I'm sure that in the coming weeks you'll be witnessing things even worse than death._

 _By now, I'm sure the fates have appeared to you, or if not, they will soon. Heed their words and do not cross them. The fates will surely take an interest in the one person outside of their control; it would be unwise to get on their bad side._

 _As for your father…don't judge him too harshly. With me gone, he will contact you. Just…hear him out, at least. I mean what I said last night, Perseus. He does love you, but, like all Gods, he has a strange way of showing it._

 _You're a smart kid, Perseus. A sharp mind can be the key to survival. Never forget though, you wield great power. Power that can rival that of the gods. However, there will always be those more powerful or smarter than you. That is simply a fact of life. With that in mind, try and avoid unnecessary conflict. Be like the moon; omnipresent, but not always visible. The shadows will be your friend. Use them._

 _Underneath this letter you'll find a silver necklace. Your father told me to give it to you once the time was right. What it does, I don't know, but it does have a purpose, I'm sure. In my dresser you'll find my bow, my symbol of power. While not as powerful as it once was, it shall serve you well. Should the moon be out in all its glory, you will not miss._

 _Finally, be strong Perseus. When times may get tough, look to the moon and you shall find hope. It will always be your ally, even when you may feel like you're completely alone in the world. Above all, though, I pray you find happiness. As long as you're happy, I shall be content, wherever I may be._

 _Selene_

A lone tear escaped Perseus's eye and landed on the letter. He shut his eyes tightly and froze for a while. His mother was gone and he was alone in the world. No amount of training, wise words or advice could prepare him for this moment. _No…She wanted me strong, so I'll be strong._ He opened his eyes and wiped his eyes. No amount of tears or despair would bring his mother back, either.

He folded the letter carefully, and placed it inside his padded jerkin, above his heart. He picked up the silver necklace the letter had mentioned. It was simple, yet alluring. A small slab of silver with the engraving of a trident. He placed it around his neck and stared at it for a while. He didn't hate his father, but he made a mental note to give him a few choice words if they ever met. Millions of questions still ran through his mind and he tried to put his mother to one side. He didn't want to dwell on it. A part of her still remained with him, after all.

He walked over to his mother's dresser. In the bottom drawer, wrapped in cloth was a long object. He unwrapped it carefully. It was an ancient relic after all. The layers of cloth revealed an elegant recurve bow that seemed to glow slightly as he touched it. Perseus felt a rush of power course through him. His mother had said it wasn't as powerful as it once was, yet, merely holding it had made him feel stronger than he had ever felt before. He could only imagine what it would have been like in all its glory, in the hands of its true owner. He noticed that engraved on the shelf was the word φέγγος. _Phéngos. Moonlight. Appropriate._ It was mostly silver, except for the grip, which was blackened leather, and the intricate carvings that covered the bow. They seemed to tell the story of Selene's life, from her parents, Hyperion and Theia, to riding her moon chariot across the sky. It suddenly dawned on Perseus what his mother was actually doing every night during her walks. In fact, he realised he actually knew little of his mother. They had never talked about her past, only the here and now. _She had her reasons,_ he thought. The letter didn't explain everything, but perhaps some things are best left untold.

His mind wandered to the mysterious man he had found in the kitchen. He looked awfully familiar, but Perseus knew that couldn't be right. He hadn't met many people during his lifetime. Even when they had lived in Pylos, he kept out of other peoples way. It was better that way. _Those green eye_ s _though…Perhaps it's time for some answers._ He looked around the room once more and left without a second thought.

* * *

The mystery man was sitting at the dining room table, staring into the distance, when Perseus walked in. He looked up and his face seemingly wandered to the necklace the boy was wearing. Perseus thought he saw the man's eyes widen in surprise, but he reverted to his neutral expression almost immediately. Perseus frowned and tucked the necklace into his jerkin. _What was that all about?_  
Two plates were set on the table, both piled high with pancakes. The man had been waiting on him to return, apparently. Perseus eyed the food suspiciously, but with the man's expectant gaze upon him, decided not to refuse to eat. Placing his bow against the table, he sat down. The man gave a small smile and started to eat. Deciding the man probably didn't poison the same food he would be eating, Perseus dug in too. To his surprise they tasted great. Besides the good taste though, the meal was the epitome of awkwardness. The man kept stealing glances at him between bites, gauging every reaction and movement, while Perseus tried to keep his eyes on the table. The one thing Perseus was able to determine through the lack of eye contact was how powerful this guy was. The man radiated pressure. The kind of pressure that would make you want to bow at his feet. Suddenly he wasn't so confident he would get answers.

It was the mystery man who spoke first, despite how much Perseus wanted to end the silence. Try as he might, the words wouldn't come out.

"So…"

 _Definitely not one with speeches then…_

The boy took the opportunity, and his thoughts spoke for him. "What did you say your name was again?"

"I didn't," came the reply.

Perseus looked up, expecting more, but the man said nothing.

"Well?"

"Well what?"

"Aren't you going to tell me your name?"

The man seemingly thought about it for a second before giving his answer.

"You'll find it out soon enough." _Huh?_

This man was clearly full of secrets, but Perseus was in no mood to pry. They finished their meal in uncomfortable silence. He wondered what he was to do next. His mother had told him them the fates would know, but that conversation raised more questions than it answered.

He looked down at his wrist, inspecting the string that was wound around it. Perseus couldn't help but wonder about its purpose. "…for whoever holds that string, controls you, and the power you hold," they had said. _What does that even mean…_

The man seemed to be deep in thought as well. A look of concentration and thought was written across his face. Both though, were broken out of their individual trances by someone smashing through the front door.

Perseus immediately stood up, his hand instinctively reaching for his knife. The man stood up as well, albeit reluctantly. It was deathly quiet for a few moments, until the sound of footsteps and creaking floorboards took hold. Closer, and closer, until they reached the door that lead to the kitchen. Perseus released the breath he didn't realise he had been holding when the door opened. It was just Pholus.

"You almost gave us a heart attack, Pholus."

His former trainer smiled sheepishly.

"Sorry Perseus, I heard about…" he entered the room, but paused when he saw the mystery man, who seemed to have a pleading look in his eyes.

"Lord Poseidon? What are you doing here?"


	3. Chapter 3

**Apologies for my tardiness, college work had me tied down a couple of weeks back. I should be good now, at least for a couple of weeks, that is. Anyways, I hope this chapter lives up to an expectations you may have.**

* * *

"Older people shouldn't eat healthy food, they need all the preservatives they can get."

~Robert Orben _  
_

* * *

 _Perseus_

In retrospect, Perseus should have seen the 'p-bomb' coming. All the signs were there. The pitch black hair, the massive fork, the subtle looks, and, above all, those green eyes. At the time, they had seemed unusual, but deep down Perseus knew they were his.

Unfortunately, this was one secret Perseus felt he deserved to know. He wanted to be angry. He wanted to spit in his face, and tell him to go back to wherever he came from. But he couldn't turn his thoughts into words. The man looked distraught as it is, and Perseus was not one to make people feel even worse about themselves, no matter how he felt.

When he was younger, he had always imagined the God's as all powerful, unmerciful and without weaknesses, but if the state Poseidon was in were something to go by, he'd rethink that. The words his mother had said to him echoed through his mind. _"…even we deities are slaves to our emotions."_ The pressure that was building in his face dissipated, and he let loose the breath he had been God of the Sea's stood at the table, his eyes interested in the floor. The game was up, short though it was. Taking the opportunity, he examined the God more closely. Despite the regal clothes he wore, he looked dishevelled and above all, tired. He wouldn't be keeping the promise of giving his father a few choice words were he to meet him, it now seemed. However, he definitely wanted some answers. He had, after all, forsaken the boy for 16 years.

"You should have told me. The instant I walked in on you, you should've said."

The green eyed God looked up, but wouldn't meet his son's eyes. His voice was quiet. _Is he afraid of me?_

"I cannot begin to imagine what you must think of me. Leaving you too was a huge mistake, one that I'll never forgive myself for. I was afraid of what you would say, and what you would do. I had to be here, though. I loved Selene. I know she would have wanted me here, by your side. But I didn't come here because of her. I came because of you. I regret the years we had apart, but I don't regret leaving. Were that so, I wouldn't have left, and you, in all likelihood, would not be standing before me today. As hard as it is to believe, I left to protect you, and I stand by what I did." The green eyed God grew louder and louder towards the end of his little speech. _Perhaps he was one with speeches after all,_ the boy thought dryly. Perseus was never one for reading people's faces, but Poseidon, he could read like a book. The God tried to appear confident, but his eyes betrayed him. They looked desperate, afraid of rejection and the response he would get. He needn't have worried though.

Perseus gave a small smile. "You're here now. That's all that matters."

He walked towards Poseidon slowly, who seemed a tad nervous. He paused in front of the man, who was considerably taller, and embraced him, tightly. The God didn't return the gesture for a split second, shocked, but did so, eventually. A few tears he had been holding back escaped. He hadn't realised how much he was craving human touch. It was a bit awkward at first, but Perseus could feel Poseidon brighten up, his melancholy vibe disappearing.

"I'll always be here for you, Perseus. You need only call," he said. They pulled out of the embrace, but both of Poseidon's hands rested on Perseus's shoulders. As much as Perseus would like to say he appeared strong in front of his father, his puffy and teary eyes told a different story. The sea God frowned slightly, and Perseus wondered if it was the boy he was looking at. Perseus was suddenly aware that he had hugged and cried on an all powerful, vengeful and from what he had heard of the God from his lessons, unpredictable. He almost regretted it. Almost.

"In a few days, you will have to rid yourself of this place."

"Why?" he replied, slightly miffed. _So that's it._ _He's just shown up, and now he's telling me to leave?_

"A big change is coming to Gree-"

The boy interrupted him before he could continue. "You're talking about the heart of the west, right?"

Perseus regretted interrupting the instant the words left his mouth. Speaking out of turn, over an extremely powerful god, no less was not a good idea, father or not. If the sea god was annoyed at the interruption, though, he didn't show it. He merely paused for a few seconds, seemingly studying his son, before asking, "How do you know about that?"

The boy looked down. "My mother told me…"

"Oh…Ahem, yes, anyway, you're right. The heart of the west is changing. Across the Ionian sea, to Rome, no less."

"Why do I have to leave, then, and where would I even go?"

"Once the Olympians leave this place, monsters will consolidate their place here. When we go, this place will empty of the God's influence. Those who are left behind will be hunted until dead, or worse. Most of the God's have left this place already. Only a few of us remain. As for where you would go, you must find Chiron. He will train you and provide shelter."

"Chiron? Pholus told me I was to go to Mount Pelion and find him."

Poseidon shook his head. "By the time you get there, he'll be gone."

"Where is he headed?"

"Rome, of course. But first, you must prove yourself. Usually, successfully climbing Mount Pelion itself is enough to prove yourself, but Mount Pelion won't be coming to Rome with us. Hmm…"

He thought for a second, accessing the endless depths of knowledge hidden within his mind. In an instant his eyes lit up with a sparkle, not unlike his mother, when she came up with a plan of her own.

"Time is of the essence here. Luckily, you happen to live near a place which will prove most trying. A few days ride from here is the Garden of the Hesperides. Go there, steal an apple and show it to Chiron. That should prove yourself worthy of his wisdom. Be warned though, you only have 8 days to make your way to the Garden, steal the apple, and head to Pylos. Should you spend a day longer, monsters from all corners of the land will be drawn to you."

Perseus had heard of the Garden of Hesperides. It was one of the many tales his mother had told him when he was younger, though he had somewhat doubted the truthfulness of the story at the time. He tried remembering the details, and one clear thing cemented its place within his mind.

"Isn't the Garden of Hesperides guarded by a dragon with a thousand heads?" he asked.

"Oh! No, no! That's just a story to make mortals stay away."

 _Phew_

"It's actually more like 30."

 _30…Well, I suppose thirty is…less than a thousand…_

The sea god must have noticed the scowl plastered on the 16 year old's face because he hastily added, "But you'll be fine! I have faith in you, Perseus. Trust in your instincts and you'll be fine."

 _I hope so, or a 30 headed dragon is about to have a tasty snack._

Thunder crackled outside, breaking the two out of their respective reveries. The sea god visibly grimaced.

"Your parentage must be kept secret, Perseus. For your sake, and mine. I must go, else my absence be noticed."

Perseus nodded. He expected as much. "Will I see you again?"

Poseidon seemingly eyed the trinket around the boy's neck for a second, then smiled. "The sea is always with you, son."

Thunder cackled again indicating time was up, and Poseidon rolled his eyes, muttering something about 'drama queen brothers.'

From the feet up, he began to dissipate into a thin veil of vapour, until only his head remained. "Trust in her, Perseus. She will lead you to great things." And with a knowing wink, he was gone, leaving Perseus alone, with just his thoughts for company. He was suddenly aware that his father had not told him where the Garden was or how to get there, only that it was a few day's ride from here.

 _Thanks dad._

* * *

As it turns out, it didn't matter. When he had left the house, not one hour later, Pholus was there waiting for him, with a jet black steed with Perseus's name on it. He pointed out the vague direction in which the boy had to travel, and then promptly left, explaining they would meet in Pylos, within the 8 day deadline.

Nothing of note happened on the first day of travelling. On the second he had questioned whether Pholus's directions were correct. On the third, he got his answer.

He had been riding along the main road to the east, and despite it being a main road, it was eerily deserted. As you could imagine, the screaming and jeering caught him by surprise. He immediately jumped off his horse and led it into a nearby gully. With a firm 'stay', he crept forward along the gully, his position uncompromised. He peered over the gully edge and peered at the source of the commotion.

There were four of them, or rather, there were three of _them_ , and one of _her_.

Two of them held her down, laughing, while the third snaked a knife across her throat, like she were his plaything, grinning all the while.

"Let's have some fun, boys!" the third said, maniacally.

With a solid yank, he tore the girl's dress off, exposing her modesty. She screamed, and struggled valiantly, while tears fell copiously. One of the men holding her pulled her head back, exposing her, while the third undid his tunic. At that moment fury coursed through Perseus's veins. His mind relinquished control to pent-up rage, and with a snarl he unslung his bow, flew out from his hiding place, notched an arrow, took aim, and let loose. The arrow hit the third in the lower back with a satisfying _thud,_ and with a howl, the _man_ fell to the dirt.

The remaining two dropped the girl, who sat frozen to the floor, and made a break for it. In an instant Perseus had another arrow notched, and the second fell to the floor with yet another satisfying _thud._ The boy now set his sights on the final lout. He notched an arrow, aimed, and released the string. He missed, only by a few yards, but it broke the boy out of his anger-induced rave. Built up pressure in his face and chest dissipated. For a second he felt light headed, but then brushed it off. _Probably the sun, anyway…_

He turned his head to the girl. He hadn't noticed her move, but she was up from the dirt, knife in hand, standing over the body of the third. He was alive, somehow, groaning and twitching on the floor. Without warning, she plunged the knife deep into the _man's_ chest. Over and over. Blood splattered across her face and exposed body. Tears flowed from her eyes, and with every hit scored, a cry of severe anguish escaped her lips. He thought it cowardly, but he made no attempt to stop her. He felt nothing but empathy, and only wished he had killed the final brute. With a final cry, she dropped the knife, her hands covering her eyes, while she wept uncontrollably. He slowly put a hand on her shoulder. She visibly flinched but apparently realised who he was, leapt from the floor and into his embrace. She sobbed into his chest, and Perseus couldn't help but let a few tears escape his own eyes. He wouldn't dare think what would have happened if he had been a few minutes later.

A few minutes later and the sobbing had died. Not a moment too soon for Perseus. If someone came across them like this, he'd have a hard time explaining why an un-clothed lady was crying into him, while carrion tore at the 2 bodies nearby.

"Ahem…Miss?" No response. He shook her slightly. "Miss…?" She nuzzled herself deeper into his chest. She was asleep, Perseus realised. He smiled seeing she was at peace. _Looks like we're camping here tonight._

* * *

Waking up to a half naked girl straddling his chest and a knife pressed into his throat was not how Perseus wanted to start his day. She was pretty, the girl on top of him, that is. Unfortunately, she was also absolutely terrifying. She bared her teeth, and dug the knife deeper, her pitch black eyes ripped through his core. Ironically, he felt exposed.

"I said, who are you! Or do I have to spell it out!?"

With some difficulty, he gulped, which made the knife dig even deeper.

"Perseus…My name…is Perseus," he choked. Reassuringly, Perseus could see the hesitation in her eyes. She wouldn't kill him. Maybe.

"Alright, _Perseus_ , if that is your real name, why are my clothes ripped? And why am I in your little camp?" she snarled. Her tone of voice didn't match the look in her eyes, however. _She's…scared? She's the one with the knife…_

"You…Some men tried to, err, have their way with you. I…I guess I saved you…" Truth be told, he was a little miffed at how someone could forget something like that.

"Oh..." was her only response. She pursed her lips, and crawled off the boy. He released a breath, he hadn't realised he'd been holding. _I can breathe! What a time to be alive…_

He stood up and stretched, wincing slightly when several bones cracked. He had given the girl his bed roll to sleep on, along with his only blankets. Suffice to say it hadn't been a comfortable night for him.

The girl stood a few feet away and he took the opportunity to study her more closely. She looked to be be his age, but she was quite small, with a lithe, slender frame. Long, flowing black hair adorned her head, while a small, upturned nose graced her unblemished face. Perseus thought she was the most beautiful person he had ever laid eyes on, though, in all honesty, he had only ever met several women in his lifetime.

She met his eyes and he realised he had been staring. He averted his gaze and attempted to break the ice.

"So…Umm...Miss…Do you have a name?" He mentally facepalmed as soon as the words left his mouth. _Of course she has a name…_

She looked at him weirdly, but replied nonetheless, "Zoë…My name is Zoë."

"Pretty name," he said, immediately and mentally cursed himself this time. _If she doesn't think I'm a weirdo already, she sure does now…_

She looked hurt for a second, as if those words had once hurt her and she narrowed her eyes, attempting to detect insincerity. Sensing none, she muttered a quick 'thanks'. _Dodged an arrow there…I think…_

Awkwardness descended and thinking they would be standing there forever, he opened his mouth again.

"So…Errr…What were you doing on the road alone? Were you separated from a group?" he asked.

 _Not as stupid as the last things I've said…_ Apparently it was. She looked down, and her fists, Perseus noticed, clenched. He quickly added, "You don't have to tell me, if you don't want to…"

"It's…ok." She paused, took a deep breath and continued, not once meeting his eyes. "My family…they kicked me out of their home. They left me to fend for myself."

Perseus frowned. He sensed she was missing out on the details, but he didn't want to pry. It her story to tell, not his.

"They weren't your family," he said.

She looked up with tear stained eyes, giving him a questioning look.

"The people who kicked you out," he hastily added, "weren't your family. Family stick together, no matter what."

She laughed, somewhat dismissively, and her eyes returned to the floor. "You've never met my _father_ , then," she whispered.

Perseus thought she would say more, but didn't. At a second glance, she looked to be without hope. Her shoulders were slumped and there were bags under her eyes. _She probably hasn't slept for days before tonight…_

"So…Do you have anywhere to go? Extended family, perhaps?" He was optimistic and hoped she had at least some idea of who to go to.

She laughed. Again, dismissively. "My extended family would sooner roast me alive before giving me shelter." _Ouch. Must be some dysfunctional family…_

"Come with me," he said, without thinking. "That is, if you wanted to, you could come with me," he hastily added.

Her head shot up, and she studied him for a second, again, studying the sincerity of his words. She bit her lip, and her eyes darted around, as if looking for someone to help decide. She closed her eyes for a second, before quietly asking, "Where are you going?"

He didn't answer for a second. He had expected her to dismiss his notion immediately. He quickly decided she was either desperate, or a little mad. _Who even considers travelling with someone they literally just met?_

"Pylos, and from there, to Rome."

She seemed to be at war with herself. It wasn't an easy choice. Or maybe it was…

"You don't have to if you don't want to, I just thou-" he began.

"I'll go with you."

"Huh?"

"I'll go with you," she repeated, "Unless you don't want me t-"

"No! It's just…I didn't think you'd say yes…"

"Well, I don't really have much of a choice…"

Perseus frowned at that. He wanted her to come because she wanted to, not because she had no other options. _Something worse must have happened to her, though I don't see how…_

"Well, um, great! I just have an errand to run nearby. Shouldn't take long. As long as I can find the place…"

That, surprisingly, perked her interest. With a little edge to her voice, she asked, "What's the errand?"

That made him pause. He wasn't exactly supposed to tell anyone, much less a mortal. Poseidon's words echoed through is mind, at that very moment, as if someone whispered them. _"Trust in her, Perseus. She will lead you to great things."_ He had said. Perseus couldn't help but think they were about Zoë, the girl in front of him, as crazy as that sounded.

"I trust you…I have to retrieve a golden apple from the Garden of Hesperides…"

She choked, and for a second Perseus saw nothing but pain and affliction on her face. She tried to hide it, but Perseus could tell it ran deep, and her efforts were to no avail.

He regretted asking, but he needed the information, or else the deadline would come and go. "You know of it?"

"No, I…Yes, I do…I used to live…near there," she whispered. He thought she might cry again, but she stood there, staring at her bare feet. He hated himself for it, but he asked, "Can you tell me where?"

* * *

 _Zoë_

Zo _ë_ was about to give up hope of ever seeing Perseus again. It had been 2 days, and she was beginning to lose hope. When he had said he was going to steal an apple, she did little to stop him. When she saw the glint in his eye, she knew he could not be stopped. Yet, she regretted it. She regretted not trying harder. The man who had saved her, her only friend in the world, her only route out of this hellish nightmare, had marched to his death, and she had done little to stop him. It tore her up to no end. More so than reliving the events of the past weeks.

You could probably forgive her, then, for almost having a heart attack when the prodigy himself, burst forth from the bushes, and straight into their modest encampment.

She jumped up from her log, startled, but he ignored her and made a break for his belongings.  
"We must leave, now!" was all he said. There was urgency in his voice. That scared her. _What has him so spooked?_ He made a break for their belongings and began to gather them.  
"What's going on, Perseus?" was all she could say. He didn't answer. She looked him over, and even though it was the dead of night, she could tell he was in a bad shape. From what she could make out, his clothes were ripped in many places, and his hair was caked in mud. Zoë grabbed his shoulders and turned him towards her. For a second, it seemed as though he didn't recognise her. He stared straight at her eyes, and something clicked. He softened immediately. A lone whisper escaped his mouth, "Zoë…"

"You're scaring me, Perseus…What's going on?" He looked guilty, upon hearing her words.  
"Zoë, you have to trust me. I promise I'll explain soon, but we have to run. Please Zoë…" His look of desperation was enough for her.

"Ok Perseus, I trust you." She let go of his shoulders and turned to her attention their horse. "Please hurr-" Something whizzed past her head. She turned to Perseus and screamed. An arrow was embedded in his throat. He looked at her, helpless, his mouth moving, but no sounds forming. He fell the ground, hard, while his eyes rolled back into his skull. She rushed to his body, kneeling at his side and shook him. His face was devoid of life, and his skin was ice cold. Words wouldn't come out. Tears poured down her face. She did not even see the figure walking towards her until they knocked her unconscious. A final word fell from her mouth before Morpheus took her; "Perseus…"

* * *

When Zoë woke up, she was surprised to find herself in a relatively pleasant setting. She was in a large tent, that much she could tell. The walls were adorned with pelts, skins and just hunting trophies in general. She was buried under layers of furs, and would have been comfortable, if she had any idea where she was. In truth, though, she cared little about where she was. Last night's events had not escaped her, and neither had the events of the previous days. Her only friend in the world had been killed in front of her. She had only known him a few hurs, yet she felt closer to him than she ever felt with her sisters. Being cast out by her own kin and left to fend for herself by _him_ was bad enough. But to lose Perseus after saving her from a fate worse than death, that was too much. Her heart had been destroyed twice in a matter of days. She cried, for she felt truly alone.

"Am I dead?" a voice sounded. Zoë shot up from her berth. She was suddenly aware of another presence in the tent. She looked around, and rubbed her tear stained eyes. Not 4 meters away from her, bound with his back facing her, was Perseus. She could tell it was him. No one had black locks of hair that cascaded down their head like that. She flung the furs off, and jumped to his side. The voice though, his voice, stopped her. "Am I dead?" it sounded, almost robotic in nature.

"Perseus?" she said, hesitant of the answer.

"Zoë…? Are you dead?" _What?_

She edged herself around to his front, afraid of what she would see. He was slumped forwards, his head resting against his sternum and even though most of his face wasn't visible, she knew he was very pale. She knelt at his front, her eyes level with his nose. Something was definitely wrong. She could feel the coldness of his body. His whole aura screamed death.

"Look at me Perseus," she pleaded.

He wouldn't budge. At a glance, you could be forgiven for thinking he was actually dead, but the irregular and weak rises of his chest said otherwise.

"Please, Perseus, look at me." She was desperate now, but still, he didn't move.

She took matters into her own hands. She was surprised to find herself hesitant to touch him, but she found her courage, placed both of her hands, on his cheeks and slowly shifted his head upwards. His eyes opened, and bore into her own. She found herself staring back at them, mesmerised by their inherent beauty. He gave a weak smile, and she couldn't help but smile back.

"You're alive…" she breathed.

"You think an arrow could stop me so easily?"

That made her frown. She saw him die before her very eyes, yet here he was, in the flesh, alive. Was she dreaming? It felt very real to her…but the eyes don't lie. _I know what I saw…_

She inched herself away from him, his eyes still on her's. Her breath hitched, and all blood drained from her face when she inspected him more closely. His clothes were torn, and he was covered in blood. From whom, she did not know, but that was not what spooked her. Imbedded in the middle of his throat was an arrow. The silver fletching clearly visible.

"You have an arrow in your throat..." she whispered, barely audible.

"How very observant of you," he smiled, though Zoë could see he was trying to cover up what he was truly feeling. He was tense, that much was certain.

"Maybe it missed all the important parts…?" the boy asked, though, Zoë could tell he didn't believe it.

"Perseus…no one survives an arrow to the throat…" It pained her to think it, but Perseus should be dead. Yet, he wasn't and Zoë half expected, at that very moment, to wake up. She yearned to find herself back in their camp, or perhaps, back in the garden with her family. This was the epitome of abnormality to her.

"So…I'm-we're really dead?"

Zoë didn't want to answer that. She definitely didn't feel dead, but thinking back on it, someone hit her head pretty hard. Hard enough to have indeed killed her. _If that were true, where are we now?_ She was about to reassure him, to tell him it wasn't real, that it was just a dream, though even she thought she'd be lying to herself. A voice from the entrance stopped her, and she whipped her head around to see who the owner was.

"Unfortunately not. You are very much alive...unfortunately," the voice said, with enough malice to make Zoë want to cower away.

It was a girl, aged around 13, with striking silver eyes, much like Perseus's eye, in fact, but they looked colder and more calculating. Her head was matted with dark auburn hair, tied into a neat ponytail. She looked confident, and she appeared powerful, with an air of authority around her that extended, Zoë assumed, far and wide. Above all though, she looked extremely irritated, like she was playing hostess to an itch that she could neither find nor eradicate. This was, by no means, an ordinary 13 year old.


	4. Chapter 4

**I apologise in advance for the length of this chapter. I promise they will be longer in the future.**

* * *

"Silence is an argument carried out by other means."  
~Che

* * *

 _Perseus_

Perseus wasn't sure he deserved the condescending and disdainful attitude. Sure, he had stumbled into their little encampment, and sure, he had knocked out a girl in the excitement of his retreat, but did he really deserve the 13 year old's wrath, much less, an arrow to the throat? Fortunately, the arrow did not have the desired effect, else he would be in the underworld, and that troubled Perseus to no end. Yes, he was alive, and yes, he did not feel worse off because of it, but what Zoë had said was true. He _should_ have died. On another day, perhaps he would celebrate the fact that he didn't. Tied to a chair with an adolescent glowering at you sort of dampened his spirits, though.

Zoë, at least, looked a lot better than she did when he found her, though, that wasn't saying much. He couldn't help but wonder about her reaction when he said he was going to steal an apple. He thought, at the time, it was a perfectly reasonable reaction. After all, one does not simply go to the Garden of Hesperides, fight the 30-headed monster, kill it and pluck the golden fruit right off the branches. That is exactly what didn't happen in Perseus's case. Still, her reaction was a lot more than just that. It ran deeper, like it bought up _really_ bad memories. He wouldn't pry. It wasn't his place to.

He was so caught up in his own thoughts that he didn't notice the scary 13 year old ask a question until she slapped him. It should have hurt him, just has the arrow should have killed him, but he felt nothing other than a tingling sensation where her palm had connected with his cheek. His head reeled and he instinctively cried, "Ow! What was that for?"

"I said, who are you! Or do I have to spell it out?" _Huh. Déjà vu._

He turned to Zoë. She stared intently at him, and Perseus could see, she had naught but concern in her eyes. He turned back to the girl. The fates had told him not to trust anyone with his secret. Whether they meant his parentage and name, as well as the string around his wrist, he wasn't sure, but telling a kid who had tried to kill him certainly wasn't a good idea.

The two figures in the tent must've noticed his far-away expression, because they were looking at him strangely. Zoë moved to answer for him, but he cut her off.

"His name is Pe-"

"Orion…My name is Orion." It wasn't technically a lie. It just wasn't really the truth either. He turned back to Zoë, his eyes pleading. She understood, luckily, but gave him an intense glare that made clear she wasn't going to drop this, and expected an explanation later. _I can hardly wait for that conversation..._

The scary 13 year old, he saw, eyed them suspiciously.

"Alright, _Orion_ , care to tell me why you barged into my camp last night?"

"It was an accident, I-," he began, though, the angry girl wasn't about to let up.

"What gives you the right to _assault_ one of my hunter's?"

"I was trying to escape your-"

"And why, pray tell, did our arrows have no effect on you?"

"I don't know the answer to that."

The 13 year old pursed her lips and they both said nothing for a while. She stared into him, and he felt his entire life laid out before her. His eyes, he assumed, were the source of her attention. Not many people had 2 eyes of different colours, much less the distinctive colours Perseus had. The anomaly was the source of much sorrow growing up. People hate differences, even trivial differences such as eye colour, as he had found out. At first he had hated them, and the pain they bought. Now, though, he embraced his little difference as a sort of 'Hey world, this is who I am. If you don't like it, you can shove it.'

The 13 year old narrowed her eyes, and Perseus struggled against the urge to shift under her gaze.

"Who are your parents, _Orion_?" she all but demanded.

He definitely wasn't giving up that information. Especially not to the person who had kidnapped him. He turned his head and made no move to answer. _Probably not the best idea, come to think of it..._

The girl's resounding slap proved his hypothesis.

"Answer me, _Orion_ , or things will get a lot worse for you," she snarled. While the tent was hot, he could now feel the heat roll off the girl in waves. His mouth stayed resolute, however, and he still made no move to answer her. She growled at his dogged tenacity, and moved to slap him again. The contact never came, however. He turned to see her mouth curled into a vicious smirk, her hand limp once more.

"It matters not whether you answer me. The council will find out soon enough."

 _That doesn't sound good at all…_ She turned to Zoë, who had remained quiet throughout.

"Come child, we have much to discuss," was all she said, before promptly leaving the tent, leaving no room for argument. Zoë, in turn, looked to him, regret plastered on her face. She moved to apologise, but he gave her a smile and stopped her, before she could.

"Go. I'll be fine. It's not like I can move or anything."

He pulled on his tightly bound hands for good measure. She hesitated for a second, but did leave the tent eventually. As much as he would prefer her to stay at his side, crossing the 13 year old probably wasn't the best idea at the moment, especially with him tied to a chair.

The seclusion, despite being under duress, was relatively peaceful, and it did give Perseus a chance to think. Mainly about how he was going to get out of this mess. If the 13 year old had plans to make him talk, he didn't want to stick around to see what they entailed.

* * *

It felt like a long time before the 13 year old returned. Zoë was in tow, though she seemed troubled and deep in thought. He was going to ask her about it, but, under the watchful eye of the 13 year old, it was probably not a good idea.

The girl stared at him for a while, while Perseus stared back. It took all of his willpower not to look away under here powerful gaze. He blinked and she gave him her characteristic 'death' smirk, as if she had won a contest. Unexpectedly, she knelt in front of him, her face mere inches from his, while Zoë looked on in morbid curiosity.

"Who are your parents, Orion?" she said, softly. Her peculiar eyes sparkled, and her tongue rolled eloquently, as she spoke. An unknown part of him wanted to answer her, and he very nearly did. It took every fibre of his being not to let his lips part with such valuable information.

"I can't answer tha-nuhgg!" Without warning, she leant forward and yanked the arrow from his throat. Intense pain was all he felt, and all air escaped his lungs. His mind went blank, his eyes rolled back and his head slumped forward. Black spots danced in his vision, but as quickly as they appeared, they promptly disappeared. Thoughts and memories hit like a freight train. His head shot upwards, and he gasped for air. It was as if he had been turned off and then on again.

Zoë stood with her hands on her mouth, shocked, while a frown matted the face of the 13 year old girl.

"So, a Pseudo-God once again walks the earth…" she muttered.

"You could have warned me," he managed to cough out. His throat was sore, but on the face of it, he felt relatively normal. He felt like someone _hadn't_ shot him in the neck with an arrow.

The 13 year old, meanwhile, didn't answer him. She instead moved to the entrance of the tent and exchanged a few words with someone.

"Take the hunters…head for Rome…before the Olympian council," was all he caught. He knew what the Olympian council was, of course, and if it were the Olympian council, she was alluding to earlier, he was definitely in big trouble. _Time for some answers._

The girl returned and once again, stood in front of him. She moved to speak, but he beat her to it.

"Who are you, really?"

She looked surprised for a second. Whether it was because he had spoken before her, or because he didn't know who she was, he couldn't tell.

"I am Artemis," she said, "Goddess of the Hunt."

* * *

The moment his father had revealed himself played in his mind. Like before, there were signs that would have told him who she was. He mentally cursed his astigmatism. His mind wanted his mouth to say something at least coherent, instead he said something along the lines of, "Oh…ok."

In his defence, his mother hadn't really talked about Artemis. For what reason, he didn't know. Artemis seemed to ignore his useless utterance, and instead turned to Zoë.

"Have you made your decision, my dear?"

Her words shook Zoë out of the trance she was in.

She hesitated before answering, "I'm still thinking about it…"

"Wait," Perseus said, "thinking about what?"

"They offered me a place in their hunt…"

"Oh," was all he could muster. The hunters he had heard about, vaguely. He never thought a God lead them, much less an Olympian. Their only rule? No boy's allowed, whatsoever. Come to think of it, he was surprised Zoë hadn't immediately said 'yes'. From what he had gathered, she had nowhere to go in the long run.

"We can be your new family, my dear. A life free of responsibility, and full of adventure can be yours. You need only accept."

Perseus looked at Zoë's face. She was tempted, he could tell. In all honesty, he was happy for her. She had an opportunity to move on and forget whatever pain she had suffered in her past. Not many people could say they had such a chance.

"I…I want nothing more than to have a new family. My life was torn apart by multiple betrayals and I was hurt in ways I cannot even begin to describe. My own family turned their backs on me and cast me out. Of course I want nothing more than to move on. But... _Orion_ here, is the first person to show any kind of empathy and sympathy in my direction. I can't do to him what my family did to me, even if we only met a few days ago. I can't abandon him. I owe him a lot more than just that. I…I must respectfully decline your invitation, milady."

She stared at the floor, while tears silently fell down her cheeks. Perseus was shocked she didn't accept. In his mind, it was a no brainer. _Who, in their right mind, rejects such an offer?_ Artemis seemed shocked as well, and Perseus couldn't help but feel it was for similar reason's. She quickly composed herself, however.

"I…I see. Well, the hunt will always be open to you, my dear. Please excuse me," was all she said, before leaving the tent.

Perseus swivelled his head to the girl.

"You should have accepted her offer," he said, softly.

She wiped the tears from her eyes and gave him a small smile.

"Well, who's going to wake you up if I'm not there, huh?"

He chuckled, and for a moment, he completely forgot about his impending doom.

* * *

Time was running out for Perseus, or so the 13 year old, Artemis, had told him. At sunset, her brother, Apollo, would arrive and he would be whisked off to Mt. Olympus, where he would face judgement. Olympian law wasn't really an area he would consider himself an expert in, but for all intents and purposes, he knew the outcome was pretty bleak.

Several plans formulated in his mind as to how he could get out of the situation. At first he considered the possibility of simply running and hoping for the best, but no man could outrun a God, much less the Goddess of the Hunt, so that was quickly thrown out. Next, he thought about simply begging the Goddess not to take him to Olympus, but again, that was quickly thrown out as well. Not least because it was an absolutely terrible idea. In the end, he decided on, what he considered, an inane plan.

He was, by no means, a strategist, but even so, the futility of the situation was staring him in the face. It was useless trying to fight this head on. She held all the cards here. All except one, that is. Information.

* * *

His plan relied on the truthfulness of the words his mother had told him before she had left. _"…even we deities are slaves to our emotions." If ever I needed something to be true, it's now._

"You challenge me to a what?" she, Artemis, demanded.

"An archery contest. 3 arrows each. 2 targets," was his reply. Truth be told, while the plan itself was an 'all or nothing' gambit, it could definitely end badly for him, although, he realised that that was not saying alot, considering the fact that he was most likely going to be put to death if he ever reached Olympus. Even so, he was relying heavily on his mother's words here and while she had never steered him wrong, he could only hope Artemis took the bait.

She leapt forth and grabbed his collar. Though she was several inches shorter than him, she couldn't be more intimidating if she tried. "You pay me grave insult, _Orion_ ," she growled, "Were your presence not demanded on Olympus, I would kill you where you stand." _Sensitivity noted._

He cocked his head to the side and stole a glance at Zoë. She stood in the clearing, amongst the ring of hunters that had formed around them. They had, very graciously, released him earlier from his bonds and allowed him to answer the call of nature, though not merciful enough to leave him alone to leak. He doubted their good-will would continue after the stunt he was pulling with their mistress. Her quizzical, yet somehow reassuring expression was just the encouragement he needed and with newfound confidence, he pried his eyes away from her, and moved them back to the angry 'teenager' in front of him.

"No disrespect intended, ma'am. It's a serious proposal. If you beat me, I will tell you everything about my parents and my life, from my first words, to my encounter with Zoë, a few days ago. However, if I win, you must swear you'll release me and Zoë and forgo any attempts to pursue us."

Her grip tightened and he knew he was playing a dangerous game. Apollo had once killed a man for challenging his prowess with the bow, and while Artemis no longer was trying to actively kill him, he didn't want test her anymore than he had to.

Artemis stared, and just as it did in the tent, he felt his entire life laid out before him. He held his gaze. He had nothing to hide. This was, by no means, a trick. Her eye twitched, as if somehow disappointed at the lack of deception, before snarling, "I'm the Goddess of Archery. What hope could you possibly have against me? We will get the information regardless of your cooperation." _Overconfidence noted._

 _Time for a little pandering._ Percy swallowed his pride, and answered, "Exactly, ma'am. What hope could I _possibly_ have against an immortal, the all powerful and omniscient Goddess of Archery, no less. I… _recognise_ the situation I'm in. My information will be revealed either way. Perhaps we can avoid unnecessary torture?"

Again, she stared. Perhaps it would have been funny under different circumstances. Not once did Percy ever think he would be getting roughed up by a 13 year old girl in the future, yet here he was.

She was hesitant, he could tell. "Judging by some of their reactions, your hunters don't like me very much. I'm sure they'd enjoy seeing some humiliation," he continued.

Some of the hunters muttered in agreement at that, which seemed to wholly convince Artemis. She let go of his collar and smirked. "Fine. Tonight, under the moon's watchful gaze, we shall settle this once and for all. Phoebe?" she said, turning to the gathered crowd hunters. Excited mutters passed amongst the troop of girls. Seemingly, they had not had access to real entertainment for some time.

A big, burly red head stepped forward, who, Perseus noticed, was trying to burn a hole through his face. "Milady?"

"Prepare the range. Two targets, one hundred meters from the shooting point."

After a terse 'Yes, milady', she stalked off, but not before sending a glare in Perseus's direction. He paid her no heed, but instead concentrated on what Artemis had said beforehand.

He turned back to Artemis "One hundred meters?"

She regarded him for a second, before answering. "Yes, one hundred meters. We aren't children Perseus, unless, of course you want to back out?"

"No, o-of course not," he stuttered. The prospects of beating her were nigh on non-existent from the outset, but now…utterly impossible. If she noticed his discomfort, she didn't say anything, merely offering a quiet 'good', before stalking off to do who know's what.

The small crowd of hunters dispersed, leaving only himself and Zoë. If he was expecting any words of advice, he didn't receive any. Instead, what he got was, "You're a fool if you think you can beat Artemis."

She was right, of course. "I know. This way, though, there might be a slight chance I can avoid being smitten down to a pulp." He scratched the back of his head and gave a small smile. If he was to lose, he would do his best to make it difficult for the goddess. A thought suddenly struck him. _What happens if I do win…_

"Zoë?" he asked, "If I do win, we may need to make a hasty exit. No doubt, Artemis will be cheesed off. Be ready with the horse, okay?"

Her gaze softened and she looked as if she was going to say more, but instead settled on 3 profound words of advice, "Just...don't die." And with that, walked away. He shook his head. It was on him now.

* * *

Subtlety was not a word Apollo was familiar with, apparently. Certainly, the God had no concept of discreetness and after blinding everyone within a 5 mile radius, he then proceeded to annoy everyone within a 5 mile radius.

He had, at least, remembered there were mortals present. "He's usually a lot more...obtrusive," Artemis explained. How that was possible, Perseus had not the faintest clue.

The glow from the approaching God was visible long before he honed into view. It took several minutes, in fact, for the big show off to actually land. He was flash, quite literally. His Sun chariot was just that; a chariot made out of the sun and Perseus had to turn his back to escape the violating light.

Off the crime against eyesight, stepped a young man of about 25, with bright blond hair to match his eyesore of a chariot. Immediately, the man walked over to where Artemis stood.

"Little sister!" he cried, "What's up? You never write. We never talk anymore. I was getting worried!"

The Archery goddess looked physically drained at Apollo's utterances, as if she had endured millennia of the same 'jokes'.

"I'm fine, Apollo. And I am not your _little_ sister," she said.

"Hey, I was born first."

"No you weren't. I helped mother give birth to you, remember-"

"So, what's up?" He turned to Perseus, who he had just realised existed. "Who's this? Need some archery tips?"

"Well, actually-" Perseus began. "We need you to preside over an archery contest, and transport us to Olympus when I win. Can you manage that?" Artemis interrupted.

"An archery contest, you say? You must have some pretty hefty balls to challenge my sister. Man, I remember the last guy who challenged me. I soon showed him-"

"Brother," Artemis said, "will you do it or not?"

"Of course! What kind of brother would I be if I refused? And it gives me a chance to try out this," he said, bringing a metallic cylinder from God's know where. Curiosity got the better of Perseus, on this occasion.

"What is it?" he asked.

"This? It's a device that makes the world look even bigger. Swagged it off Hephaestus while he wasn't looking."

Not knowing what any of that meant, he gave a curt "Oh." The two twins walked off, no doubt discussing the circumstances they were locked in.

* * *

The burly red head practically shoved Phéngos, Selene's weakened symbol of power, into his arms, causing him to stumble slightly. Sniggers erupted from the gathered crowd, but unbeknownst to them, their scorn was his advantage, and only strengthened his resolve.

Despite only using it a few times, he had become accustomed to its touch and its almost perfect balance. Truly, it was great to clasp it once again. "Time to dance…" he muttered, before taking his place on the shooting line, the crowd following behind him.

Despite it being the dead of night, the forest clearing was ablaze with the moon's light. _No doubt,_ _Artemis's doing._ Fortunately, it did mean he could actually see the target and surprisingly enough, part of him was confident of victory. Whether it originated from deep lying false hope, he knew not. The rational, sensible and sane Perseus, on the other hand, was not so confident. _"You're going to lose horribly,"_ it said. He quickly shut that part of his brain out. If all else failed, a total pig-headed unwillingness to look facts in the face would see him through.

He looked at the Goddess next to him. A faint silver glow surrounded her figure. She looked confident, with the faint remnants of something resembling a smile. In Perseus's mind, her confidence was, of course, well founded, but if anything, it only served to show how arrogant the God's were.

Apollo was the one to break him out of his stupor. He strolled onto a small podium that had appeared out of nowhere, and began a 'rousing' speech.

"Are you ladies ready for some class A entertainment!?" he shouted. No response.

"I _said_ , are you ladies ready for some class A entertainment!?" Again, no response, and Perseus resigned to the fact that if Apollo were a mortal, the hunters would have booed.

"Wow. Tough crowd. Never mind, I feel a poem coming on!" Half the crowd groaned. _Must have dealt with Apollo before..._

"Ahem. There was once was a-"

"I think it's time we began," Artemis interrupted, "Apollo, if you please."

"Oh, right, yes, of course. Whatever you say lil' sis."

Artemis visibly cringed, but said nothing.

"Each will shoot 3 times and the one with the higher score wins, obviously. Since Artemis is the one being challenged, she may shoot first," Apollo stated He turned down range and began to look through Hephaestus's stolen 'thingy', signalling the start.

In one fluid motion, the Goddess plucked an arrow from the ground, notched it and let loose, barely taking the time to aim. A second later, a resounding _thud_ was heard.

"Bullseye," Apollo announced. A cheer went up, which Perseus thought was a bit ironic. _She IS the archery Goddess..._

Silence followed, and somehow he could sense all eyes turn to him. He paid them no heed. He looked up at the glowing white orb above him. It's appearence gave him hope, as it always had done as a child, but this time it was different. An overwhelming wave of warmth rushed through him. One that he had never felt before today. It strengthened him, both mentally and physically. His senses were heightened, and more sensitive. Everything seemed clearer. The air, the heat, his conscience. He was calm. He was focused. He was powerful. There was now only one thing on his mind: the target.

He notched his arrow and aimed, whilst simultaneously pulling back on the string. Time slowed to a standstill. His breathing slowed until it was slight. The target was in front of him, clear as day. He let fly, and in an instant, time flowed normally again. Not a second later, a _thud_ was heard.

"A bullseye…?" Apollo half-confirmed, half-asked.

Deafening silence followed. The trees refused to rustle, and the crickets stopped chirping. He turned his head to Zoë, who had stood off to one side. A shocked expression plastered her face. _Oh ye of little faith._ He gave her a sly wink, and turned his attention back to the target in front of him. His head refused to turn to his right, where Artemis was. The only sign that told him she was there was the animalistic growl she emitted, and the _twang_ of a bowstring. _If I do manage to win, I won't be sticking around…_

"Bullseye," Apollo declared. In a flash all eyes were on him again, but as before, he wasn't fazed. The feeling of completeness returned and with absolute calmness, he picked up an arrow, notched it, aimed, and let loose. _Thud._

"A bullseye _again_ ," the sun God proclaimed. Artemis wasted no time in letting loose her final arrow. Perhaps it was the heat, or her haste, or maybe even the wind, but it was not the perfect shot she wanted.

"Off centre," Apollo breathed. A collective gasp went up from amongst the crowd, while Artemis stood, paralysed, her mouth hung open in disbelief.

There should have been a massive weight on his shoulders, and extreme pressure in his chest, but there wasn't. He felt composed, and paid the slightly miffed crowd no heed. He picked up his final arrow, notched it, aimed, let loose, and at that moment, his mother's words made perfect sense. " _Should the moon be out in all its glory, you will not miss,"_ she had said. Of course, her words weren't literal. He could very well have missed all of his shots. The moon had done nothing but give himself belief and determination. Everything else, he already had.

 _Thud._

"A...A bullseye..." the self-proclaimed referee cried. Deathly silence followed, and Perseus took it upon himself to follow his own advice. _Time to fly myself…_ He wasted no time in grabbing Zoë and climbing upon their horse. They rode through the parted crowd, under the watchful eye of the moon, and it would have been the perfect cliché ending, except they paused on the forest edge. The pseudo-god reigned the horse and faced the stricken Goddess.

"Perseus Orion Euryalis, son of Poseidon and Selene, at your service milady," was all he said before turning, and galloping into the forest.

* * *

 **Note: This was originally chapter 4. It has now been combined with chapter 5.**


	5. Chapter 5

**Be forewarned, I think this is the worst chapter yet.**

* * *

"Don't panic!"

~ Cpl. Jones

* * *

 _Artemis_

The only thing worse than losing an archery competition to a son of Poseidon? Having Apollo there to witness it. Her annoying brother would surely not let this go any time soon. In fact, Mr Sunshine himself was currently retelling retelling the events of last night to the council, albeit, a 'slightly' exaggerated version.

"…So there he was, pulling back on the bowstring. Now any normal mortal-"

Of all the Gods in the world, she was sister to the most annoying and perverse male there was. It got to her, ever so slightly. " _Apollo…_ "

"-would be a nervous wreck, facing off against Artemis, but oh no, not Perseus. He turns to Artemis, so calm-"

" _Apollo…_ " she half-growled, half-whispered.

"-and collected, was he. They stare at each other for a split second before Perseus winks and-"

"Oh for the love of… Apollo!" Something snapped, and this time she did shout, to the amusement and curiosity of the 10 seated god's. An embarrassing silence followed before her father, Zeus, spoke up.

"Do you have anything to add, my daughter?" he asked. She met his thunderous gaze with a steely one of her own.

"Look father, unless _Apollo_ has magically grown eyes in the back of his head since the council last met, he could not have possibly seen what happened because he was staring down range."

"So what _did_ happen?" came the response and she paused for a second. The truth wasn't worth the endless arguments and headaches she, and the rest of the bystanders would receive.

"It doesn't matter what happened. What does matter is that _someone_ among us has sired a forbidden child. A pseudo-god, no less. If he's not kept in check, who knows how much damage he could sow." She sent a covert glare the sea God's way, who widened his eyes in response. The boy's identity would not be revealed. Yet. Zeus would simply order his death anyway, difficult though it would be.

"Hmm, yes, you're right. He's already proved how much damage he can do to an Olympian's ego. Find him. Bring him before the council so we may decide what to do with him. Meeting adjourned."

The lord of theatrics disappeared in a cloud of ozone in an instant, leaving her red faced at his dig. The sea God, as well, vanished not a second later to her surprise and annoyance. Artemis had him down has the confrontational type. _No doubt to inform his spawn of the coming storm._ She shook her head. No amount of forewarning would prevent what she would do with the boy once she got a hold of him.

* * *

 _Zoë_

For Zoë, there was nothing better than waking up to warm gaze of the stars. Libra, Sagittarius, Cygnus, the lot. She felt right at home under their watch, safe too. In fact, the only other place she felt safe was in the presence of Perseus. His air of confidence, and perhaps even a little carefree arrogance were indescribably reassuring. It was the reason she felt safer under the guise of someone she knew next to nothing about.

While she could have laid there staring at the stars all night, they had a deadline to meet and it was imperative they met it so, with a sigh, she removed herself from the bed roll. The campsite was quiet save the gentle rustling of the tree's and whinnying of their horse. Perseus, however, was no where to be seen. His bed roll was rumpled and vacant, unusual considering she was the one who often had to drag him from his pit. For a heart wrenching second she thought he had deserted her, but then quickly dispelled that idea. Partly because you'd have to be a complete cretin to leave without the horse, and despite how oblivious he could be, he wasn't completely stupid. Mainly though, because it was Perseus. He wouldn't abandon her. _What if he's been kidnapped…or worse…_

She resisted the urge to scream his name. If he had been taken, the thing that had done the snatching may still be nearby. From what she could see in the hazy darkness, there was no blood, nor a sign of struggle which gave Zoë hope that he had gone to gather breakfast, or even go to the toilet. Even so, she reasoned that waiting and hoping he'd be back soon was not the correct course of action.

Despite the darkness, she searched the tree's, the bushes and every nook and cranny she could find. Even going so far as to enter to pitch black woods themselves. Still nothing. Not even a clue to his whereabouts and against her better judgement she called out to him.

"Perseus, this is not funny! Come out this instant!" Still nothing. Only the soft swaying of tree's under the moonlight. She inched her way back to the campsite, fearful that he would suddenly jump out and scare her half to death in a terribly unamusing joke. No such thing happened though, and so the waiting game began, but with each passing second fear and panic from within her rose. It suddenly became a distinct possibility that he had, in fact, abandoned her. The world started to spin and the tree's closed in, trapping her. Her hands began to shake and her chest heaved. Feelings of utter terror and fright took hold. A twig snapped and she screamed, before running. In what direction it didn't matter.

* * *

She ran for hours, or at least, ran for what felt like hours, tears streaming. Her legs burned as well, but she dared not stop. She was sure there was something out there, silently stalking her, waiting for the moment to pounce. Half-credit. She burst forth into a small clearing and the sound flowing water filled her ears. She froze though, noticing the faint outline of a person who sat overlooking the small stream. With the figures back to her, she could make out no distinguishing features, but she was sure it was Perseus.

"Perseus?" she whispered, her voice somehow resonating across the clearing. There was no response. Not even a twitch or acknowledgement of her presence.

She pursed her lips, her previous state of panic forgotten and a new state of curiosity and hope in its place. She tentatively inched her way towards the figure, who had still not moved an inch.

"Perseus?" she whispered again, and still, she got no response.

She crept ever closer, the figures outline becoming more apparent by the second before she could clearly make out the familiar sight of unkempt black hair.

"Perseus?" she called for the third time, but still, there was no response. She closed her eyes, the surrealness becoming overwhelming. It all felt like a dream. A very bad one. She opened her eyes, hoping, praying she would wake up in her bed roll, Perseus sound asleep next to her. She had to stifle a sob when none of that came true. This was real.

She edged herself round to the figure's front and had to suppress a sigh of sheer relief when she saw that it was, in fact, Perseus. Her relief turned to confusion when she realised his eyes were open, yet he had not responded to her calls. His eyes looked straight through her as though she were a ghost, while tears silently cascaded down his cheeks.

She poked him in the chest gently but it did nothing to wake him from is trance, so, she did the only thing she could. She punched him. Hard. And the effects were almost immediate.

He shook his head and blinked several times before registering the pain. "Hey! What was that for?" he shouted.

"Hay is for horses, Perseus," was her retort before tackling him in a bone crushing hug.

"Can't…breathe…dying," he wheezed. Noticing their compromising position, she quickly let go and retreated several steps. Luckily, the darkness hid the deep crimson blush that had crept onto her face.

"So, what are you doing out here?" he asked.

"What am I doing out here…" she breathed.

"Yeah, you know, why are you here?" he repeated, oblivious to the worry and panic he had inflicted.

"Why _I'm_ here? Why are _you_ here, you idiot! We have a deadline to meet, unless you wish to be forever known as the son of Poseidon who got eaten alive because he took a walk in the dead of night without telling his travelling companion!" she shouted and punched him in the arm again for good measure.

He clutched at his arm while letting out a nervous chuckle. "Remind me to never get on your bad side…again," he said, which only served to enrage her further. He swallowed once he noticed her expression, before explaining, "Look, I'm sorry Zoë. I guess I was getting caught up in the past. I'm sorry, it won't happen again, I promise."

She considered him for a second before giving a small smile. His sigh of relief was audible. "Alright Perseus," she said, before grabbing his collar and turning serious once more, "But if you ever run off without telling me again, I will personally make sure you _are_ eaten alive. Got it?" she growled.

"Yes, ma'am…" he squeaked.

"Good," she proclaimed, happy that she had put the fear of God in him.

The two made their way back to their small campsite, both happy, but for entirely different reasons.

"So…when do I get another hug?"

"Don't push your luck, _Orion."_

* * *

They reached Pylos 2 days later, deadline day. They took up residence in a tree line overlooking the vibrant and bustling town. Unfortunately, a group of silver she-devils had beaten them.

"Why are they following us? And how on earth did they get here before us?"

"Maybe they asked for directions, like you should have when we met that nice old couple on the main road to Athens."

"I told you, I didn't need directions."

"Was that before or after you realised we were going in the wrong direction?"

Perseus didn't respond, which Zoë took as a sign of defeat. She smirked in triumph. The last few days had been uneventful, but they had grown a lot closer. Zoë certainly never had a better friend than Perseus, but still, she couldn't bring herself to tell him the truth, and while they were both the son and daughter of a titan, Zoë wasn't sure how he'd react to news that she was the daughter of _that_ particular titan.

They sat silently for a while, thereafter, the tree's providing much appreciated shade while they scoped out the town. They had planned on entering the town at nightfall, but Perseus's 'shortcuts' had blown that ship straight out of the water.

"There! Look!" the boy suddenly shouted, making Zoë jump. He pointed to a _very_ skinny man dressed in rags standing down an alley, but Zoë failed to see how it was relevant.

"It's just a skinny guy, Perseus," she said.

"Look closer. I promise you that isn't a guy."

She looked harder and saw he was correct. It wasn't a 'guy'. Neither was it a human. 'Its' form seemed to flicker back and forth from a very skinny man to a man without skin. A skeleton.

"Why is there a skeleton standing there…?" she asked, to herself more than anyone else.

"Don't know, but I want to find out. Come on!" he stood up from their hiding spot before Zoë pulled him straight back to the ground again.

"Are you crazy? Don't they like…you know, eat demi-gods?"

He looked at her funny. "I can't speak for all skeletons, Zoë, but I don't think that skeleton has eaten anything, ever."

"Nice to see you're finding something amusing, _Perseus_ …What about that one?" she asked, pointing to yet another shifty looking an standing down another alley. The son of Poseidon squinted his eyes before shrugging.

"It's just a really fat guy. A really, really fat guy," he concluded. She rolled her eyes at his idiocy.

"How many 'really, really fat guys' do you know that only have one eye in the centre of their forehead?"

Again, he squinted, attempting to see the deformity.

"Oh yeah!" he affirmed before realising what it meant. "Oh…yeah…A cyclops…Maybe he's just big boned?"

Ignoring his comment on cyclops anatomy, she spoke, " _Yeah_ , indeed. Nice to see you're on the same wavelength, _Perseus_."

"Look, we'll just avoid them. I doubt that guy can see anyway. Rolls of fat literally cover his eye…"

"And what of the hunters?" she asked.

He thought for a second, before having an epiphany. "We'll just avoid them too. There's only two of them. I mean, what's the worst that could happen?"

"Err, we get killed?" she stated, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

"Whatever," he muttered, before jumping from their hiding spot and making his way into town. She rolled her eyes yet again, which she seemed to be doing more and more often before scampering after him.

The cyclops and skeleton were easy to slip past, though at one point she thought she heard the cyclops say something about 'tasty demi-god flesh' when they snuck by. Zoë had promptly smacked Perseus around the head when he said, "What can I say? I'm simply irresistible."

The two hunters, however, were clearly on the lookout for them. They stood at the entrance to the port jetty, and seemed pretty resolute in staying there. Luckily, they had a plan. Perseus what 'rob' her, and hunters being hunters would come to her aid and save the day.

"Get on the boat, and don't look back. If I'm not here within 5 minutes, tell the captain to leave without me. And…I'm sorry," was all he said before promptly snatching her satchel and pushing her to the ground, right in front of the two hunters. He made off in an instant, and suddenly Zoë wasn't sure if she wanted him to escape the hunters clutches, or not. _I'll maim him myself if he comes back in one piece…_ she thought.

"It's that Orion guy! Get him!" the hunters shouted before they, themselves, scarpered off after him.

Perseus wasn't back for some time. Longer than 5 minutes, for sure. Luckily, _convincing_ the captain to stay a little longer was easy. After all, no one likes to be thrown overboard.

When the son of Poseidon did come, Zoë saw he brought with him an entourage of hunters. All of them, in fact, with the hunter goddess Artemis at their head, all with the distinct purpose of using the boy's head as target practice.

"Tell the captain to weigh anchor!" she heard him shout.

She whirled around and glared at the captain. "You heard him!" she growled. The man swallowed and repeated the command. The deck was a flurry of activity. The sail was unfurled, and the ship lurched forward, leaving the jetty behind. _He's not going to make it…_

Perseus entered the jetty and ran it's entirety, Artemis and her hunters hot on his heels. He reached the end, but promptly dove right off the edge and into the water below, the hunters skidding to a halt before they too dove in.

"Wait for me!" he shouted.

"I can't believe I trained that boy…" a voice from a left sounded, startling her slightly. It was a 30-something year old man with warm eyes, and Zoë realised he must have been Pholus, Perseus's trainer.

She smiled, and a final thought popped into her head before retreating down below. _What a seaweed brain…_

* * *

 **Right, yes, done, zip, finished. I'll probably work on getting a chapter up sooner this time, though. Not fare that you get so little return for your lovely comments. Anyways, onwards.**

 _ **Responses to reviews:**_

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	6. Chapter 6

**Before the more lucid viewers point out that this is a short chapter, let me just say that I know. I had a hand in writing it after all. My right hand, in fact. Anyway, this isn't a proper chapter. It merely ties up some loose ends from the previous chapter from the PoV of Perseus. I promise you'll have a full length chapter for Sunday. P.S. Thanks for the 10,000 views.**

* * *

"There's no 'I' in denial."  
~Peter Serafinowicz

* * *

 _Perseus (To reiterate, this chapter starts before the events of the last chapter.)_

After their little run in, the two had jetted, wasting no time in putting distance between themselves and Artemis's band of merry followers. Spirits were high, and the adrenaline was rushing. Unfortunately, this meant Perseus was in a daring mood and when they came across a small winery in the foothills of western Arcadia, the Son of Poseidon took it upon himself to steal a flagon, right from under the owner's nose.

That night, they drank, they danced. The gravity of their achievement only adding fuel to the already rapturous fire. The euphoria was still with them the moment they laid their heads down to sleep. Obviously, someone had to spoil the party.

The moment Morpheus took him, he re-materialised in a blackened space. He could move, which was a good sign, perhaps negated by the fact that he couldn't see a thing. Too often had he experienced dreams wherein he was powerless. The golden eyed psycho sprung to mind and suddenly he was slightly apprehensive. Indeed, the golden eyed man had not partaken in the wonderful activity of slicing at his motionless body for some time now, but still, the dreams were too frequent to forget and it was only a matter of time before they returned.

"You're a fool, Perseus," a familiar, yet ominous voice sounded. _Well that's not nice…_

A figure formed several yards in front of him, and despite the apparent lack of light source, the man, or rather, God, was illuminated as if the sun itself were shining down upon him. It was his father, Poseidon, characteristic pitchfork at his side, and judging from the expression plastered on his face, it wasn't a mere social call.

Perseus bowed his head slightly, realising the seriousness, and muttered a quick "Father," before raising his head to the sea God once more. Poseidon shook his head as if he was disappointed with what he was looking at.

"What did I say, Perseus?" he said, and despite it being a dream, his head was pounding, no doubt a consequence of prior festivities. As such, his mind wasn't exactly in a position to answer.

"I don't know, father."

The sea God sighed and simultaneously rubbed his temples. He was stressed, and whatever Perseus _had_ done, it couldn't have been good for the sea God.

"I specifically told you to keep your parentage a secret. Your little stunt with Artemis has put me in a very difficult position."

On impulse, Perseus retorted, "In my defence, you phrased it as more of a suggestion. Besides, what possible problems could arise from telling the hunter goddess my parentage?"

"This is serious, boy!" the sea god exploded, "In case you haven't noticed, that 'hunter goddess' leads a group of followers who now have the express aim of bringing you to Olympus in chains. They will not stop until that aim is fulfilled."

Perseus flinched involuntarily at his father's tone. Power rolled off Poseidon in waves with every syllable he spoke, and at that moment, Perseus vaguely recalled the stories about how Poseidon's temper could result in the destruction of entire cities.

Again, the sea god sighed, and the pressure that had been building in their dream world dissipated, leading Perseus to wonder if the gods had multiple personalities.

"You're right, though… Under normal circumstances, perhaps telling Artemis of your heritage would have been a boon, but you, Perseus, aren't normal, even by demigod standards. Pseudo-god's are dangerously powerful, and were Zeus to find out you are the son of his greatest rival…well, we may have a war on our hands. As it stands, the only thing keeping Zeus from the truth is Artemis's wounded pride and embarrassment," the sea god conceded. He was right, though, and Perseus knew it. The situation, a situation he had created, was delicate and at risk of spilling over. He didn't feel ashamed, though. It was a mistake, and he was determined to rectify it as soon as possible.

"How can I make amends?" Perseus asked, and the sea god merely smiled.

"Just…don't get captured. In several days it won't matter what happens. Us gods will forget everything, you will be free to live however you please. Artemis will do everything she can to capture you before then."

The gods words confused Perseus to no end. _What does he mean by 'forget everything'?_

Poseidon must have noticed the boy's perplexed expression because he gave a sad smile. "This isn't just a lecture about past events, Perseus. This is also a goodbye. When the heart of civilisation changes, we gods change with it, both in personality and image, depending on how we are perceived in our new homeland. It is likely that my new self will see you as the son of an inferior aspect. It would be best to avoid me when that happens," he explained.

His father's words hit him like a sucker punch, more so than the words from before. He had only met his day several days ago, and now he was telling him they wouldn't be able to each other again, out of fear of what his new self may or may not do.

The sea god pulled the boy into a hug, and they shared an intimate moment before one would be lost forever. They pulled back after what seemed like an eternity, the gods hands resting on Perseus's shoulders. Sea green met silver, and Perseus realised that despite having only 2 or 3 conversations with him, he was proud to call Poseidon his dad.

"Do not fret, son. I mean what I said before. The sea will always be with you, inside and out," the sea god smiled and his son responded in kind. His form began to flicker and fade, signalling their time was up.

"I'll do you proud, dad."

"I know you will…Oh, and Perseus, keep that apple safe," the sea god said, before he was no more, leaving a perplexed and slightly emotional Perseus who wondered how he knew about the apple.

His mind was given no time to respond, however, and almost immediately the scene shifted and the all too familiar sight of a dark, damp and dreary dungeon ceiling occupying his vision. His wrists and feet were bound tightly to a rack, the unbearable smell of blood and sweat tainting his nostrils. He was immobile; helpless, the sound of footsteps gradually filling his ears as they came closer and closer, until they stopped. For a second, Perseus could hear his own heart thump with sheer trepidation. His fear was confirmed when the hollow eyes, his torturer plastered his eyesight, and were he able to speak, he would have screamed with all his might.

"What shall we do today, _Perseus_?" the man snarled, putting as much venom in his name as deemed possible, but despite the depredation, the man was grinning inanely, as if Perseus being the worst in the world to him was incredibly funny.

"Ah, yes, that's right. You can't talk. Shame, that. Tell you what, though, how about I decide for you? Sound good?" the man asked, giving Perseus a second or two to answer, despite knowing full well that he couldn't.

"Excellent. Let's get started, shall we?"

The man brought out his scythe. A vicious, 3 foot long, golden blade resting on a 7 foot long, ragged pole. It was the only thing Perseus was afraid of more than the man himself. He had long since decided that the barbaric and sadistic monster that wielded it was the worst person to ever exist, despite being a pigment of his imagination, but along with that, he had come to the conclusion that the man who had created it deserved to burn in tartarus for all of time, as well.

The man ran his scythe under the boy's nose, as if making him sniff the blade of its purity, like you would a fine wine. Perseus could do nothing about it, however, only stare aimlessly at the ceiling, the man disappearing from view, his appearance replaced by excruciating pain, not a second later, as the evil sadist ran his scythe up and down the boy's torso, leaving deep, jagged cuts that took the very breath out of his lungs. Over, and over, he did it, the man seemingly an expert in his field. The pain forcing the mind to recluse and force out any other feelings. There was no happy place. There was no relief. There were no thoughts. Only pain.

* * *

He shot up from his berth, searing hot pain rushing through his torso. He pulled his shirt above his head and had stifle a gasp when he noticed the jagged wounds the golden eyed man had inflicted during the night were still open. Even in the darkness, his rib bones were showing, while no blood flowed. Without warning, the wounds began to close until nothing more than faint white scars were visible, which in turn faded eventually.

His eyelids weighed a ton, but he dared not lay back down to sleep, out of fear the man would come back to finish the job. The man had been missing ever since he left his home, and Perseus thought he was safe; the nightly nightmares over, but apparently he was wrong. The man was back in full swing, and the apprehension about merely closing his eyes had reached boiling point. He had never felt lower.

Fortunately, Zoë had not woken during his little tirade, and he found himself envying her sleeping form. She was at peace, while he was not. Still, though, he could not help but smile at her as she mumbled incoherently and twitched. Perseus wondered what she would do once they had reached Rome. They had already made an unspoken pact that she would be leaving on the boat with him. It was clear there was nothing left for her here.

 _She's pretty cute…_ he thought, and he immediately brought his hands to his mouth. _She'll kill me if she finds out I ever thought that…_ He then realised what he was doing and a crimson blush sneaked its way onto his cheeks.. _She'll kill me if she finds out I was staring at her sleeping…_ He gulped at the thought

He stared up at the night sky, the moon out in full force. It calmed him, and once more, felt safe under its guise. He was drawn to it, physically more than anything else, and he found himself walking towards it, his legs with minds of their own.

* * *

He didn't know exactly how long he had been walking before he had snapped out of the trance like state. What he did know was his legs, or rather, the Moon had taken him to a very picturesque part of the forest they were camping in. He found himself perched on a rock overlooking a stream, several feet wide, flowing down a slight bank. The moon's reflection stared back at him from the water, while several fireflies danced gracefully in front of him. The deep dwelling despair and fear from within him dissipated in an instant. He could not compare the scene in front of him and it's effect to anything he had experienced prior. It was truly ethereal, and he couldn't help but think how much his mother would love this place. His mother. He realised he had not thought of her nearly as often as he should have. That saddened him deeply. She was a great mother, and a great person, but he was simply unable to ball his eyes out at her loss. He felt anger rise from within. Anger at the world. Anger at the people who had abandoned her, who had forgotten about her, who had resigned her to her fate. Tears did flow that night, but ironically, not as many as he wanted.

His own trance stopped when he felt an object collide with his arm. It did take a moment for the pain to register, but it had the desired effect.

"Hey! What was that for?" he shouted. He turned and saw Zoë standing beside him, looking slightly distraught. Sweat covered her brow, while her clothes were ripped, and several twigs adorned her black hair.

"Hay is for horses, Perseus," she said before almost breaking him in half with a hug that could rival his mother's.

"Can't…breathe…dying," he wheezed. She was effectively straddling his waist, and the compromising position had not gone unnoticed by both parties. He blushed, praying the darkness had hidden the heat rising to his cheeks. She lifted herself off of him before retreating a few steps.

"So, what are you doing out here?" he questioned, rising from the dirt ridden floor. Her eyes widened in shock at is question. For what reason, he had no idea.

"What am I doing out here…" she breathed.

"Yeah, you know, why are you here?" he repeated, oblivious to the worry and panic he had inflicted.

"Why _I'm_ here? Why are _you_ here, you idiot! We have a deadline to meet, unless you wish to be forever known as the son of Poseidon who got eaten alive because he took a walk in the dead of night without telling his travelling companion!" she shouted and again, punched him in the arm. _That's bruise, for sure…_

He clutched his arm while letting out a nervous chuckle. "Remind me to never get on your bad side…again," he said, which only seemed to anger her even more. He noticed and gulped, knowing what she would do if he tested her further.

"Look, I'm sorry Zoë. I guess I was getting caught up in the past. I'm sorry, it won't happen again, I promise," he pleaded, and she seemed to consider his apology for a second before giving a creepy, menacing smile. He let loose a breath he had been holding.

"Alright Perseus," she said, before launching herself at his collar, "But if you ever run off without telling me again, I will personally make sure you _are_ eaten alive. Got it?" she growled, her zesty breath hitting his face with each syllable, somehow getting the point across.

Admittedly, he squeaked out a curt, "Yes, ma'am…" before she let go of him. She had certainly put the fear of God in him..

They turned, and walked side by side towards their small encampment. His dream now a forgotten moment in history.

He smirked when he remembered how close they had been. "So…when do I get another hug?" he joked.

"Don't push your luck, _Orion,"_ _she growled, and he couldn't help but laugh._

* * *

PoV Unknown

Two figures occupied in a room, one bowing deeply, while the other sat on a throne made out of human bones, no doubt, taken from his enemies.

"My-y L-lord, w-we have news for you," the bowing one stuttered.

"Spit it out, man. I do not have all day," the second boomed, his voice resonating across the room.

"W-we found one, my-y l-lord," again the man stuttered.

"Found one what?"

"A-a pseudo-god, my-y l-lord. N-not only tha-that, my-y l-lord. H-he is the proph-prohesised one, my lord."

The man banged his fists on the on the throne he currently occupied, causing some bones to snap. The bowing man visibly jumped, his hands shaking uncontrollably.

"Find him! Bring him to me in chains!" the man shouted and immediately the bowing man turned tail and ran out of the room, stumbling as he went.

The man in the throne relaxed, and grinned inanely, his blood red eyes lighting up the room.

"Finally! I shall return…"

* * *

 **Hmmm, not as short as I thought it would be. Nonetheless, my apologies. Anyways, would love to know what you fine people think. Bad, good, meh, I don't care. It's all useful to me.**

 **Gladius2021: Good.**

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 **dizzydaisy37: Thanks for your kind words. .**

 **Guest: If that's the part of the story that you think is the chink in my armour, then I reckon I'm doing alright. In all seriousness though, the first recorded mention of 'tagenites', which are Greek pancakes, was in the 5** **th** **century BC. I didn't mention them by name because I didn't want people to think I was a pretentious prat.**

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 **Mercy: Ok, ok, ok! Just for you. To answer your questions: No to the first, I refuse to answer the second, and to the third, this will become clear further along the story. And no, you weren't rude. Far from it, in fact.**


	7. Chapter 7

**Perseus might be OOC in this chapter. Yeah, he actually has a brain for once. This is a sort of 2 part chapter.**

* * *

"People say nothing is impossible, but I do nothing every day."  
~Winnie the Pooh

* * *

 _Zoë_

"Hah! That was so wide, even Apollo was offended," laughed a certain black haired sea spawn from behind her.

Being holed up in the cramped cargo deck for several weeks had done nothing to dampen the boy's spirits, which in turn had made Zoë's life miserable. The weather had not been great right from the off, and they had, on several occasions, come very close to capsizing. Perseus had brushed it off as just 'Dad and his sense of humour', but Zoë didn't exactly see the funny side of things. To make matters worse, she was sea sick, a lot, much to amusement the sea god's son.

She turned to the son of Poseidon and let out an animalistic growl. "Another word _Orion_ , and I'll shove this bow so far up your rear, even your ancestors are going to feel violated."

She expected him to at least flinch at her tone, but to her increased frustration, he had the audacity to smirk. "Jeez, Zoë, I didn't realise you liked me in that way," he laughed.

She let out a cry of indignation, but resisted the urge to beat the boy to a bloody pulp. 3 weeks of rocking to and fro in a wooden coffin was wearing her down, yet the son of Poseidon never looked more at home. It was his element, after all. The captain too had noticed Perseus's attachment to the sea. His extraordinary ability to determine the exact course they were on was particularly useful, especially after the sea had thrown them in the wrong direction.

She felt a tiny twang of jealousy when she thought about the boy's abilities. By all accounts, she was insignificant when compared to him, and when she brought it up in a conversation, Perseus had laughed, telling her 'Good looks, a glare that would put Hades to shame, and a punch that rivals that of Ares; what more could you ever need?'. Promptly punching him in the arm had only served to reinforce his conclusion.

She turned to the makeshift target in front of her, took position, aimed, pulled back on the string and let loose. The arrow sailed for half a second before embedding itself in a barrel, well left of the target. The constant rocking wasn't helping , but she knew she should've been able to at least hit the red rag in front of her.

"Not a word, Orion," she growled, not bothering to turn to the son of Poseidon, whom she was sure was laughing behind her back.

She plucked another arrow from the ground, and again, prepared her shot. As before, the boat's inability to glide across the water throwing her aim off, the arrow ending up somewhere to the left of the target.

She whirled around, attempting to catch the Son of Poseidon in the act, but the boy sat perched on a stack of crates, a blank expression plastering his face. She did notice the amused twinkle in his eyes, though, and was sure he was dying on the inside.

" _Not. A. Single. Word,_ " she snarled, her voice getting ever lower with each syllable. The boy gulped and pursed his lips in acknowledgement. She wasn't in the mood to revel in her small victory, however, simply turning around and preparing to have another go, determined to make the most of the voyage.

She heard a loud thud from behind her, but paid it no heed. The target in front of her demanding and getting her full attention. She tensed and almost jumped out her skin when she felt a hand land on her shoulder. She lowered the bow and turned her head slowly, the hand being removed instantly, to find Perseus standing besides her, scratching the back of his head nervously.

"S-Sorry Zoë. I…I want to teach you how to shoot," he stammered, his voice soft and a red tint creeping its way onto his cheeks.

She calmed to his soft voice, her frustration gone, but the determination remaining.

"No…It's…It's fine. Teach me how to shoot," she resolved, her tone equally as soft.

The boy gave a nervous smile and gently brought her wrist up in front of her. He then moved closer, and she could feel his chest meld with her back, his hot breath making the fibres of her neck stand on end. She relaxed into his form, and if anything, sank deeper into his touch.

He placed his hands on her flanks, twisting her body slightly so it was in the correct position. Each brush and glance of his hand, sending shockwaves throughout her body. His gesticulations had made her short of breath. She had felt like this, but once before, and that was in the garden, with _him._

"Ok Zoë. Raise your arm so that it's in line with the arrow, and pull back on the string. Keep the string in front of your eye, and aim at your target. Just…pause for a second. Can you feel the rise and fall of the boat? Can you feel the waves?"

She could, unlike before, but she wasn't sure if it was Perseus's instructions or his close proximity that was opening her senses. She dared not respond, though, out of fear of losing her concentration. She could see the target. She could feel it's downward and upward trajectory, ever changing. She let loose.

The arrow sailed, time seemingly slowing down, but the course remaining true, and with a resounding thud, embedded itself in the rudimentary target.

She released the breath she had been holding, but promptly let out a shrill scream when a pair of arms lifted her into the air as if she were nothing.

"Ha! I knew you could do it Zoë!" the male shouted.

"Put me down this instant, _Orion!_ " she demanded. Perseus responded by flipping her around and placing her on his shoulders, his hands and arms forming a vice like grip around her.

"Not a chance in Hades, nightshade!" the boy laughed.

"Nightshade?" she asked, confused, the words slightly forced due to the pressure on her stomach.

"Yeah, because of your eyes and hair…and because you're so into me," he explained, and she could just picture him in her mind wiggling her eyebrows at her. He was without doubt the most infuriating person she'd ever met.

"Uggh! You're such a…such a…moonbrain!" she blurted out, and if she weren't in such a compromising position, she would've brought her hand to her mouth in embarrassment. _Please don't question it…_

"Moonbrain? That's…pretty terrible, Zoë." _Just my luck…_ She quickly thought up an explanation

"The only time your brain is working is at night time, when you're asleep, so we never get to see it!" she very lamely explained, and both knew it.

"Don't quit your day job, _nightshade_."

"At least I'm smart enough to actually get a job _, moonbrain._ Can you let me down now? It's hard to breathe on your boney shoulder."

Perseus didn't respond, but did indeed place Zoë on the floor once more. The son of Poseidon retreated several steps, and Zoë noticed his eyes were glued to the floor. _Probably just realised what a big mistake that was..What a seaweed brain…_

He was right to. She took a step forward and punched him in the arm. The son of Poseidon grimaced and clutched at his arm, sending a questioning gaze towards Zoë. _Like you don't know._

"For lifting me up," she shrugged. The son of Poseidon gave a small smile like he was expecting that explanation.

She took another step forward, and Zoë saw the son of Poseidon brace himself. She almost smirked a the sight, but instead wrapped her arms around him and hugged him.

"That's for teaching me to shoot," she explained, before quickly letting go and sprinting out of the room before the boy could notice she was blushing furiously.

* * *

 _Perseus_

Perseus had quickly decided that Zoë was the most confusing person he had ever met, short though that list was. His mother? A relatively simple person. Kind and gentle, but with a mysterious side to her as well. One that only became clear after she had gone. Her mysteriousness had never confused him, though. Curious maybe, but never confusion.

Artemis too was a relatively simple person to figure out. Prideful, arrogant, but not blind. She made her intentions and feelings clear, regardless of their implications.

Zoë was a different breed of fish altogether. She was independent, and strong willed, like she had something to prove. To whom, he didn't know. In fact, she had never shown any inclination that she actually knew anyone apart from himself. She had mentioned extended family that 'would sooner roast me alive before giving me shelter' when they had first met, but other than that, no one.

Her reasons behind being alone on the road when he had first found her perplexed him too. She had simply said she was kicked out her home. His attempts to subtly bring it up in conversation bore no fruit either. She always changed the subject, and the pain shown in her eyes made it clear to him that it was a no-go area, so he dropped the matter completely.

Perhaps the strangest thing, however, was her lack of reaction to his parentage. From what he had heard, titan's weren't exactly popular in the demi-god world, even the peaceful ones. Yet she expressed nothing. No questions, no subtle mentions. It was almost as if she didn't care, which wouldn't be a bad thing, but it simply didn't fit with her character.

"Mysterious indeed," he muttered, while watching her rapidly retreating figure.

He hoped she would stick with him once they got to Rome. Artemis had ruined any chance Zoë had of staying in Greece. He had originally agreed to accompany her only as far as Pylos, but he was sure she was looking for a way out. Artemis had made it easier to leave, if anything.

He sighed, and propped himself against some crates. The trip was wearing him thin, as it was Zoë. Never before had he been confined to such a small space, and despite being surrounded by the sea, he had never felt more out of his comfort zone. There was an itch. An itch to be free of his wooden prison. The sea itself, the very thing supposedly held deep within him was his worst enemy at this very point in time. He couldn't wait to rid himself of the ship, it's callous crew, and the endless, empty ocean.

His hands mindlessly tapped away at the flooring, before his eyes began to droop, and he sank into a restless, troubling sleep.

* * *

His eyes fluttered open to a sharp, throbbing pain in his thigh. He saw both Zoë and Pholus, his trainer, standing over him, their bodies blocking out what little light there was. It took him a moment to gather his bearings and realise where he was. The coffin shaped he was in, unfamiliar for a second. He tried to sit up, but another sharp stab of pain hit him, this time in his head. It seemed to bring him back, however, and memories of where he was and who he was came rushing back.

A pair of hands gently pushed him back against the box he had slept against. Zoë, now on her knee's, met his eyes with her own. They showed nothing but concern and trepidation, and Perseus had a feeling he knew what it was.

Her face contorted into a frown, and the corner of her mouth twitched slightly, before she opened her mouth to speak.

"You were thrashing and screaming in your sleep. We couldn't wake you up, so…I kicked you in the leg," she explained, though Perseus could see it in her eyes that she was holding something back.

The boy gave a small nod, but mentally cursed his bad fortune. He had hoped his dreams would stay within him while he slept, but it was not to be. They had got better before they had got worse, in some cruel, twisted joke, he realised.

"You can always talk to us, you know. Any problem you have, it's better to share, Perseus. We…We can help you," she coaxed, but Perseus would not divulge. He didn't want pity. Especially pity that came from one that clearly had demons and problems of her own.

"Yes, any problem _you_ may have, it _is_ better to share, isn't it?" he snapped. She flinched at his venomous tone, and he immediately regretted what he said.

"Zoë, I-" he started, but she had turned heel and ran before he could apologise. He punched the floor in frustration. She was right. It was better to share his problems, but he was scared of the consequences. If he spoke of the dreams as if they were anything more than that, would it make the golden-eyed man real? In any case, there was nothing Zoë could do. Only send more pity his way, though he doubted she would be sending anything his way for the time being.

He stood up and moved to go after her, but the rigid frame of Pholus stood in his way.

"Let her cool down, we have bigger problems to worry about," the man said, in the authoritative tone he had become accustomed to.

Perseus glanced at the staircase where Zoë had gone, before sending a questioning gaze to his trainer.

"What do you mean 'bigger things to worry about?'" he asked.

"We're being pursued. It's best you come up on deck."

* * *

Perseus's eyes recoiled in shock at how bright it was outside. The sun sat sprawled high in the sky, meaning it was about midday and at its hottest. The crew had paused what they were doing to watch the pursuing vessel. Its shape was a mere dot on the horizon, but there was no doubt in Perseus's mind that they were after them. Whether it was pirates or a merchant vessel in need of assistance, they'd find out soon enough.

The next few hours were tense, as the pursuing ship got closer and closer. Pandemonium erupted when the sails honed into clear view. They were pitch black, with the face of Medusa embroidered on.

Shouts erupted from the crew.

"It's golden one!"  
"We're all going to die!"  
"Every man for himself!"  
"Why is he called the 'golden boy' when his sails are black?"

Several foolishly threw themselves overboard and into the sea below. There was no land for miles around, yet they would rather take their chances with the unforgiving ocean, than face the so-called 'golden boy'.

He turned to Pholus, who had a grim expression on his face, and asked who he was.

"He's a pirate, really. But he's the best pirate. His gang has been raiding these parts for decades. It is rumoured he is not human, but a heathen God. No one ever survives an encounter with them, so no one knows who he is," the man explained. He then turned to the captain who stood, eyes wide, at the helm.

"We need to dump the cargo overboard. There's no way we can outrun them," Pholus told the captain, who froze for a second, before realising what he had said.

"What!? Are you mad?! We're carrying some pretty important cargo here, and I won't see it lost to the depths when we can stand and fight," the captain exclaimed, though Perseus doubted most of the crew shared that sentiment. _Ask about the cargo,_ a voice in the back of his head said, and he had the overwhelming desire to obey.

"Fool! Look around you! We are in no position to fight them off, and if it is indeed the 'Golden Boy' and his gang, we wouldn't have a chance even if we were in a position to fight. We should toss the cargo overboard, and attempt to out-run them," Pholus argued, and Perseus knew he would not back down. _Ask about the cargo,_ again the voice commanded. It wasn't imaginary, he was sure of it. Someone was feeding him this.

"This is my cargo we're talking about here! I won't just give it up with a fight!"

"They _will_ catch up to us if we don't unload! If the rumours are to be believed, they could have upwards of 30 or 40 men on that boat. We don't stand a chance!"

 _Ask about the cargo_ , the voice pleaded.

"I'm the captain, and this is my ship. You're just a passenger here!"

"Well, you're clearly not a very good captain because you're about to sail us to our deaths!" Pholus and the captain were, by now, in each others faces, and things were threatening to boil over even further. _Ask about the cargo_ , the voice continued to beseech, and this time he relented, sending a quick 'Fine!' in reply.

"Guys!", he shouted, and they turned just before they were about to throttle each other.

"Ask about the cargo!" Perseus shouted, to the apparent confusion of all those on deck. All of whom wretched their eyes away from their pursuer, and settled on him.

"What?" both the captain, and Pholus asked, in unison. He flushed a crimson red, realising his error, and swore he could hear someone laughing.

"No…wait…What cargo are you hauling, captain?" he corrected, mentally cursing himself to the depths of Hades.

The captain gave him a strange look before answering, "Various things. Mostly Gecian furniture, and a special batch of Mr. D wine, but I fail to see how that is relevant. Cargo is cargo."

 _Mr. D's wine. Ask about Mr. D's wine,_ the voice called.

"Mr. D's wine, tell me about it," he relayed.

"I fail to see how this is pertinent to the situation-"

"Tell him about the wine, captain, before I make you!" his trainer growled, raising his fists to reinforce his point.

The captain gulped, looking between the man ready to strike him, and the boy asking about wine.

He relented after a few seconds, realising a broken nose wasn't worth it. "It's a special brew from Mr. D's vineyards in southern Greece, to Mr. B's vineyards of Northern Italy. We've been charged with the transportation several times now. It's nothing new," he shrugged.

 _Mr D, Dionysus, Mr D, Dionysus, Mr D, Dionysus,_ the voice repeated, over and over.

 _Mr D is Dionysus? Why would he be transporting his own product to Rome, unless…_

He pointed to his trainer, who still stood glaring at the captain. "Pholus, who is the god of wine?" he asked.

"Err…Dionysus?"

He shook his head, "No, the Roman god of wine, what is he called?"

"I believe they refer to him as Bacchus, over there, why?" the trainer questioned, but Perseus ignored him. _If Mr D is Dionysus, then Mr B is Bacchus. He's shipping his product to Rome before the change…_

 _Mr B, Bacchus, Mr B, Bacchus, Mr B, Bacchus,_ the voice confirmed.

 _But why does this matter? How can this save us?_ he asked the voice.

 _Product stolen, Bacchus mad,_ it mused.

 _If the pirates steal the wine, then Bacchus will be mad…That means we have a bargaining chip!_

"What are you thinking, Perseus?" his trainer asked.

The boy smirked. "I think…I have a plan."

* * *

 **Terrible ending is a given. Part 1 of 2, because you know, I'm a scoundrel.**

 **Just so you know, I'm always on the lookout for a co-writer, or at least people to share ideas with. If you're interested, hit me up. If you're not, never speak again so long as you live.**

 **Now, I'm not saying you should review, but you should totally leave a comment in the giant box below that says 'review'.**

 **ArtemisTheGoddessOfTheHunt – I can, but that's because I have to spend several hours staring at my screen while my hands do jack.**

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 **Omega Alpha Hydra – I'm guessing you were about to say 'is the worst', and I'd have to disagree. The fourth was pretty terrible.**

 **Guest – Beats doing drugs…I suppose…**

 **Shigure Toshiro – I'm interested too, but we shall have to wait and see what the brain comes up with.**

 **rebfan90 – In the same way that the Great fire of London was 'great', I assume? You can have that one if you want.**


	8. Chapter 8

**Changed the story name, story picture, and my own pen name. Sue me.**

 **I would like to address the fact that this story is progressing quite slowly. This is by design. I want to tell a unique story, not get to the end as quickly as possible. I also lack the mental capacity to update more.**

* * *

"If."  
~Spartan reply after the promise of annihilation from Philip II of Macedon.

* * *

 _Perseus_

"Are you crazy!? That wine will bring me an absolute fortune once this journey is finished! I will not let you simply dump it overboard!" the captain cried, and it took every ounce of his being not to throttle the captain there and then. Pholus, however, was not as patient. He stepped towards the captain, and grabbed the scruff of the man's tunic, growling, "Listen here, _Captain_ , we either ditch the wine, or you and the sea are going to become well acquainted with one another, you got me?"

The captain gulped, and looked around, hoping for some support from his crew. He didn't get any. He turned back to Pholus, who still had the man in his hands, daring him to refuse.

"Fine…" he grudgingly relented. Pholus let go of him and retreated several steps, while the captain rubbed his throat coarsely.

The captain wasn't done with his incessant arguments, however. "I still don't see what the point is. What makes you think dumping the wine overboard is going to save us?" he said, and Perseus very nearly rolled his eyes.

"If Mr. B accepts the offering, he will save us. If not, then at least we've lightened the load, and might be able to keep the chase up for a little longer," he explained, slightly exasperated. Turning to the sea, he saw the black sails of their pursuer, getting ever closer. The blindingly bright hull shining in the distance; further proof that it was, indeed, the 'Golden Boy'. Perseus had heard the stories, of course. Everyone had. A golden ship gallivanting around the Mediterranean, stealing and pillaging as they please, was big news. Several ships had been sent to deal with the threat, but none had returned. The cities they had been sent from had long since assumed they were sunk, capture or killed.

He turned to the captain, "They'll be on us within the hour. We better get to work."

* * *

The next 40 minutes or so were a flurry of activity. The crew lugged the heavy barrels from the hold and lined them up on the deck. Perseus pitched in. It was the only way to calm his almost shot nerves. He had killed men without the blink of an eye, although, they had deserved it, in all fairness, but there was something about the black-sailed ship that made him uneasy, and he was sure it was something more than the threat of death that came with it.

"That's it! That's all of them!" came a cry from down below. The last of the barrels were hauled up from the suffocating hold, and placed on both sides of the deck, their bung holes facing the open sea. Perseus took a second to admire the feat, and the men that had accomplished it. The crew were, at this moment, simply piles of sweating leather under the basking sun. If it came down to a fight, they would be too exhausted to lift a finger in response. This was it.

He spared a glance at the ever looming golden vessel. Squinting, he could just make out several figures darting across their deck, like ants superimposed on the vast expanse of Earth.

He looked away after a few seconds. Thinking about what might happen wasn't a good idea. His hands were already shaking. Whether it was from apprehension or the adrenaline, he wasn't sure. It didn't matter. Getting captured and potentially sold into slavery several weeks after leaving home wasn't on his repertoire.

He looked at the crew, some of whom stared right back, their faces contorted in wariness and fear. The empty, defeated looks in their eyes were enough for Perseus to know they felt worse than he did. They had wives and children to feed. Their family's future was at stake, along with their own. On the other hand, Perseus had no responsibilities, other than the loyalty he owed his two friends, both of whom were on board at this very moment.

A hand on his shoulder broke his thought process, and he whisked around to meet the warm brown eyes of Pholus. He said naught, giving only a short nod, his expressionless, scar covered face revealing nothing. The man turned to the crew, saying, "Release the wine."

There was a short pause before the crew removed themselves from their lethargy, and began to open the barrels.

"Wait!" a voice cried, and all work stopped, heads swivelling to meet the source; the pudgy captain.

Sweat poured from the man in bucket loads, and his face, newly turned red, only served to make the man look like a walking, talking strawberry. The captain swallowed nervously. Most probably because of the murderous looks he was receiving from everyone on deck.

"It's j-just…err…s-shouldn't someone s-say a few words?" he stuttered, and the crew seemed to ponder this for a second, while Perseus had the urge to roll his eyes in frustration. The enemy was almost upon them and here they were, trying to decide whether or not they should play etiquette. He'd wager Bacchus was watching them right now, no doubt concerned about his special delivery.

There were a few nods of agreement from amongst the rabble, while some turned to him, a 16 year old boy for direction. No one moved, and sensing they would get nowhere, muttered a quick 'fine' under his breath, moving to the stern where the captain stood.

The congregation deserted their positions by the barrels and gathered in front of the raised quarter deck where Perseus stood, subconsciously fiddling with the hem of his leather smock. A few stood, silently staring, their thoughts unreadable. Most knelt, however, their lips moving in silent prayer.

"Ahem. So, err, yeah, Lord Dionysus? Or Bacchus-whatever. You charged this crew with the _solemn_ duty of delivering your, err, _priceless_ merchandise on time. We would not be so arrogant as to deny you your useful goods, even in the face of certain death or incarceration. With that in mind, we'd like to offer our deluxe, express delivery package, reserved only for the most powerful and wisest of gods, such as yourself," he proclaimed, chewing and tripping on the words at every syllable. Sucking up to anyone, especially to the wine god, wasn't exactly his forté, but he managed to reserve most of his usual sarkiness, something that he was truly proud of.

He motioned to the crew, who began to open the barrel tops, deep purple liquid diluting with the sea, in an almost painful manner. If the special wine itself wasn't destined for the God's cup, it would have been a crime to waste it in such a manner.

"So, yeah, if it's not _too_ much trouble, can you please save our _lowly_ mortal souls, O mighty Lord Bacchus?" he continued, his pride thoroughly wounded with just a few words spoken. A chance at avoiding an eternity of servitude was worth his wounded ego, he resolved. However, he didn't trust himself to speak another word, in fear of gagging uncontrollably.

The barrels ran dry, and Perseus moved to the ship's edge, watching the steady stream of purple ink. At first nothing happened, and he feared the wine god had rejected the notion of 'express shipping', but just as he was about to label his plan a lost cause, the surface of the sea bubbled. The wine slick fizzed and hissed, turning a sickly green colour, until it slowly dissipated, leaving nothing except the familiar dark blue of the Mediterranean.

Relief coursed through his body and a few cheers went up from amongst the crew, but he had an inkling feeling that they weren't out of the water yet, so to speak.

"Don't get ahead of yourselves. Bacchus has taken delivery, now will he pay the shipping fee?" came the deep voice of Pholus. Spirit's dampened, the mood going from hope, to euphoria, and back to hope in a matter of seconds.

They waited for as long as they dared, but nothing changed. The golden trireme stayed on course, and by the time they were in shouting distance, Perseus had relented that the god of wine would not be coming to their aid. He tried not to feel too disheartened. Bacchus was a god, and they were just mortals. What did it matter to him if their lives were cut short by an insignificant amount of time? It was a long shot, in any case, and Bacchus probably would have found a way to take the wine even in the event of capture. Still, it was good to know the gods were as tight and conceited as he thought they were.

"Furl the sail. We can't outrun them now," the captain ordered, a forlorn and loss look on his face. A profit lost, and their ship about to be captured. All in all it hadn't been a good voyage for the man.

Several of the crew looked to Perseus for confirmation, but all he could do was shrug dejectedly, and remove himself from the deck. The pirates would board them within moments, and he wanted to make sure Zoë was close to him before they were subdued. Stories of what sailors, not to mention pirates, would do to women were in plentiful supply, all of them bad.

* * *

He scoured the lower deck for what seemed like hours, but what he knew to be minutes. Heat, added with humidity and the threat of death tended to do that. There was no sign of Zoë down below, and Perseus didn't know whether that was a good thing, or not. On the one hand, if he couldn't see her, how could he be sure she was safe? On the other, though, if he couldn't find her, maybe the pirates wouldn't be able to either. In both instances, it was another worry on his mind, and he walked up the steps to the uppermost deck slowly, his hands shaking, and his mind wondering what he'd find.

Immediately, there was a sword point between his eyes, and he had to jam the breaks on to prevent two becoming one.

The glare originating from the sun made it painful to look, and he almost brought his hand up to his eyes, but then realised that was probably not a good idea with a hostile pirate in front of him. He was an ugly brute, he saw, once his eyes adjusted. Bare chested, with a wide assortment of scars and bruises from recent escapades. A scraggly beard grew from his chin, while a wide-eyed, crazy look plastered his face.

He turned around, sword still between Perseus's eyes, calling to his partners in crime, "Look 'ere, boss! A kid!"

There was a short pause, before a different voice piped up. "Bring him up here, you fool! I can't see him!" the voice commanded, an mistakenly foreign accent attached to his clear, flowing voice; Persian, perhaps.

The thug in front of him didn't reply, but instead, grabbed his collar, and dragged him out from the stairwell. Again, the light blinded him for a second, and he tripped over a loose rope, the thug holding him very graciously choosing that moment to let him go. He crumbled to the ground, causing hysterics amongst what he assumed to be the pirate crew.

The blackness in his vision cleared and he first thing he saw were sandals. He looked up to find a man, if that was even the appropriate word, looking down at him. His expression was un-readable. Partly because he was wearing Greek cuirass of pure gold that seemed to reflect 100% of the sun's light, so as to blind anyone near him. And partly because he was wearing a mask that covered his entire face. When Perseus pulled himself off the ground, he found himself staring down at the solid gold likeness of a Gorgon, complete with fangs, a forked tongue, and snakes, frozen mid attack. It was unnerving, slightly, but attached to a short fellow?

"Hello, brother. Feeling well?" the man said, with the exotic, Persian accent he had heard earlier. His breathing stopped for a second, thinking the man was suggesting Selene and Poseidon had had an affair before. He then realised he was probably just his half brother. Poseidon was known to…get around, and his mother simply wouldn't have given birth to someone as vain as this man clearly was.

Perseus didn't respond to his words, and instead looked around. Everywhere he looked, topless, muscular men were carrying crates from down below and onto their ship. He silently prayed they wouldn't find his mothers bow, hidden amongst the cargo.

The crew were lined up against the ship's edge, fear showing on most faces. Pholus too, was there, his face stoic. His hands, though, gave away his true feelings. They were twitching at his sides, and Perseus knew the man was planning when to lash out. He couldn't see Zoë amongst the crowd of people. Like before, he didn't know if that was a good thing, or not.

He turned back to walking jeweller, who had tilted his covered face to the side slightly, and smirked, his rebellious, 'speak before think' side out in force. "Well, I can hardly feel as bad as you look now, can I?" he said, earning a few sniggers from amongst the detained crew.

The man's eyes flashed a luminous green, and Perseus almost flinched back, but he held his gaze resolutely, albeit, difficultly.

"I'm glad to see you're enjoying yourself, _Perseus_ , but you should know that the things I would do to you pale in comparison with the things the contractor will do to you," he snarled. Perseus wasn't intimidated by the man, however. How could he? The guy was 5 foot 3 at best. He had peaked his interest, though. _What would anyone want with me?_

The man, who he assumed to be the Golden Boy himself, seemed to read his mind. "Oh yes, he put a large bounty on your head. Alive of course, which takes the sting out of things, slightly, but we'll manage. I hear he has great plans for you, _boy_ ," he chirped, as if payday really was the greatest day of his life.

Perseus couldn't help but snort with laughter. "Look who's talking, short stuff," he leered.

'Short stuff' growled, though again, it was hard to be scared of an inanimate plate of metal shaped like a disfigured lizard. Honestly, his mother scared him more than this guy did.

Before he could respond in full however, a scream and the sounds of heavy objects falling over from down below filled everyone's ears.

"Boss! Boss! There's a girl!" came the cry from down below, and Perseus's almost stopped beating. The Golden Boy swivelled around to the stairwell, and Perseus pictured him grinning maniacally from underneath that ridiculous mask of his. _If they hurt her…_

"What are waiting for? Bring her up here!" he commanded, his voice laced with excitement.

There was a quiet pause, followed by more crashing and shouting. He laughed silently at the noises, knowing what the pirates were getting in to. She was certainly putting up more fight than he did.

They finally dragged her out after some time, a man holding each arm, her white dress torn and dirt ridden. Every ounce of his being was telling him to run up to the men who would dare touch her and sock them one, but he restrained himself. For her sake, more than his own.

She met his eyes for a second, and Perseus could see her fear. The same fear he saw when they had first met.

He grabbed the golden boy's armour straps, pulling him right into his face, and with all the malice and contempt he could muster, growled, "Touch her, and I will end you."

One of his lackeys pulled him off 'short stuff', who simply laughed. "Sorry Perseus, but who am I to deny these men a woman when we are in such short supply out here on the open sea's?"

The other pirates cheered, and pulled the now screaming Zoë across the deck, aiming for their own ship. Perseus clenched his fists, and looked to Pholus, who had the same itch in his hands. They couldn't let them take her.

He tensed, and was about to make a desperate, last ditch, a borderline suicidal charge of the men holding her, when an idea struck him. He relaxed, and lounged back, slightly, knowing this was their only shot.

"Fine," he said, "take her," nonchalantly. Everyone, including the pirates holding Zoë, stopped and stared at him in confusion.

"Perseus, what are you…" started Pholus, but Perseus silenced him with a sly wink.

"Take her, if you dare. I cannot vouch for your safety once she leaves his ship, however," he said, his eyes suddenly interested in his nails.

"Ignore him. We hold all the cards here. They have nothing," dismissed 'short stuff', with a wave of his hand.

Perseus laughed, devoid and empty of any emotion. "That's what you think…" he muttered, just loud enough so all on deck could hear.

"Silence fool! You have nothing! We are in charge here!" screamed a shrill 'short stuff'.

Against, Perseus laughed, and again it was devoid of anything other than insincerity. "You have…no idea who…she is, do you?" he coaxed, between chuckles.

The crew shifted from foot to foot in uneasiness. They had probably never seen anything like the display he was giving. The Golden Boy looked around helpless, apparently sensing the uncertainty.

"Who is she then, _brother_? Tell us!" he demanded, unwittingly taking Perseus's bait.

" _She_ is Zoë Nightshade, High-Priestess at the Temple of Bacchus in Rome," he announced, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "And we," he said, pointing to himself and the crew, "are escorting her, and a special brew of wine, to be delivered to Bacchus himself, at a villa, in northern Italy."

Laughs went up amongst the pirate crew, exactly what Perseus had hoped for. _Come on! Be the disrespectful louts that we know you can be!_ he silently prayed.

"Bacchus? You mean the wine dude? I doubt that lard ass can even lift a finger, let alone a pitcher of wine!" a crewman jeered, and others joined in.

"Who needs a wine god!"  
"Easiest job in the world! In fact, I think some of us are overqualified or the job!"  
"Definitely the weakest of the gods."

The Golden Boy seemed to realise what was happening, and flailed his pudgy arms about in a fruitless attempt to get them to shut up. "Stop, you fools!" he shouted. The laughing and insults continued, and Perseus suddenly realised that for all their brawn, the crew of reportedly 'invincible' pirates were not very bright, at all.

"What's he going to do, Chrysoar? Turn us into dolp-" a crewman started, but his speech was cut short as a yellow mist blew from the man's body, covering the deck. It disappeared within seconds, and gasps went up from amongst both crews as they saw that in the man's stead was a grey, leathery, Common dolphin, twitching and flopping about on the wooden deck.

There was silence, for just a few seconds before pandemonium erupted. Yellow dust filled the deck, screams erupting from the pirates who had tested fate. The captured crew seemed to take the initiative, and charged into the mass array of confusion.

Perseus found himself grinning from ear to ear, until he met the eyes of Zoë and Pholus. They came to a silent agreement, and all three turned the 'Golden Boy', who was screaming at his men to 'Stop turning into dolphins!'. He was surrounded within seconds, and though they had no weapons other than tooth and nail, he was quickly subdued.

They picked him up, his short stature providing no difficulty, while his arms flayed, and tossed him overboard, his scream abruptly cut short by a large splash of water.

He turned to his friends. "Well that was-" he began, but was cut short by arms wrapping around his neck. She pulled away after a second, their eyes meeting, before she leaned in and kissed him lightly on his cheek, giving him a quick "Thank you" before turning on her heel and disappearing below deck. He could only stand there and watch her retreating figure, his hand touching his cheek, completely bewildered.

* * *

 **I really would like honest feedback on this chapter. I will probably edit this in the future. There's something not quite right about it…**

 **rebfan90 – Thanks, and no problem, I think. I can't actually remember anything I actually write , but I'm sure it was golden.**

 **Sparksofrandomness – How very prejudice of you. Just because he has red eyes and makes his followers quiver in their boots, does not make him evil. Frankly, you disgust me.**

 **CHAOTICPERSON346 –They turn into Dolphin's, as I'm sure you already know. The story thanks ye for the compliment, in any case.**

 **Guest – Give me a million pounds, and I shall do so. But yes, I do plan on making more stories, and in fact, I'm in the process of writing a new one. I cannot confirm whether or not it's Percy/Artemis, but yes, it's Percy/Artemis. Thanks for the compliments!**

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 **Shigure Toshiro - Thanks loyal reviewer!**


	9. Chapter 9

**Sorry for short chapter, and the chapter itself.**

* * *

"What are they planting to grow seedless watermelons?"

~Jerry Seinfeld

* * *

 _Perseus_

The sight that greeted them while sailing up the Italian coast was that of rugged terrain, covered in noticeably darker foliage than what they were used to seeing in Greece. The sun kissed hills were pretty, he had to admit, but they weren't _Grecian_ pretty. There was something else, too, other than the obvious differences in geography. A feeling. A feeling they didn't belong there. Still, he would ignore it, but only because they could hardly go back now, could they?

The empty, but picturesque landscape quickly transitioned into terrain blotched with ungainly cities and settlements, much to the horror of both Zoë and Perseus alike. From the little Perseus had discerned about Zoë's past life, like him, she had grown up in a very rural area. He suspected the first time she had ever set foot inside another settlement was, in fact, when they had entered Pylos. Thus the sight of these…stains must have been quite disconcerting to her. It certainly was to him.

Despite the view, he breathed a sigh of relief. Almost 4 weeks at sea, confined and constrained in his own private coffin. Albeit, a shared coffin, but a coffin nonetheless. They had been boarded by pirates, and only saved because the wine god didn't take too kindly to disrespect. Their ship had been on the brink of capsizing more times than he'd care to count, and at one point the mast had snapped during a storm, forcing them to bring out the oars until it could be fixed, not that he was complaining, or anything… He just wanted off the boat as soon as possible.

He snorted in amusement at the irony. The son of Poseidon that _wanted_ to rid himself of the sea. _How poetic,_ he thought, as he leant on the ship's railing, staring at the landscape passing by.

"What's so funny?" a soft voice to his left sounded, and he turned to find Zoë, a small smile gracing her lips. He, in turn, smiled as well, almost involuntarily at her presence, his mismatched eyes meeting her coal black pair. She wore a short white dress with a brown sash tied around her waist, most likely stolen from the cargo boxes down below. She was painstakingly beautiful, he realised, and for a few seconds, he simply lost himself in her appearance, his mind going blank and his problems forgotten.

Her eyebrows furrowed, and she tilted her head slightly to the side, and Perseus suddenly realised he was staring at her. He quickly peeled his eyes away, his face turning a shade of bright red. He would've complimented her, but either out of fear of her punching him, or sheer embarrassment, he couldn't. He went with the former.

He sensed her stand alongside him against the railing, their shoulders brushing slightly, making him shiver at the contact. His eyes stayed fixated on the rolling coast, but he wasn't really looking at anything in particular. He just wanted his mind occupied.

They stood in silence for a few seconds, before Zoë persisted with her earlier question.

"You still haven't told me what's so funny, you know," she said softly. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see her staring at him, though her expression was indiscernible. Concern, maybe? Or perhaps unsettled? Her hands tugged at the hem of her dress, and Perseus had a feeling there might have been something weighing on her mind, other than what he thought was amusing.

"Nothing really, just thinking," he responded, after a momentary pause.

"Come on, Perseus, we both know that isn't true. After all, I have yet to see any evidence that you actually have a brain," she teased, pushing his shoulder lightly, and sending those weird shockwaves through his body again.

"Bah, you're just jealous of my superior intellect, Nightshade," he responded, playfully pushing her this time. He turns his head, braving a look at her face, and see's her pretty smile. He smiled in kind, and once more, the shockwaves returned, without the need for contact this time. He had never experienced that feeling before. He wondered if it was normal in close friends.

"Don't flatter yourself, Seaweed Brain. Everyone knows I'm the brains behind _this_ operation," she teased, poking his arm with every syllable.

"Alright, alright, you win. You're the smartest, Zoë," he relented, rubbing his arm. _Damn, she's a lot stronger than she looks…_

They slipped into a silence more comfortable than the last. His mood, he noticed, when he was around Zoë seemed to shift constantly. More often than not, it was very slight, positive changes. Like each time they talked they would be a tad nervous at first, and then slowly slip into the running, playfully teasing each other like they had always been friends. He wouldn't be ashamed to admit that he valued his friendship with Zoë above almost all else.

He didn't know how long they stood there, watching as the world went by, but when Zoë tapped on his shoulder, getting his attention, it was getting dark, and the top deck was mostly deserted, save a few essential men.

He turned to her, a quizzical expression planted on his face. She was looking at the floor, not meeting his eyes, a complete contradiction to her normal, 'in your face' attitude. She fiddled with the hem of her dress again, and he realised that whatever was plaguing her earlier, had come back.

"Can I trust you, Perseus?" she asked, her voice barely more than a whisper.

The corner of his mouth twitched, and he scowled, wanting nothing more than to know what had her so downcast. He gently lifted her chin so her eyes met his, and gave an encouraging smile. "We're best friends Zoë. Best friends trust each other, right? You can tell me anything."

A flicker of a smile played on her lips, but was gone in an instant. He withdrew his hand and her eyes slowly dropped to the ground again.

"Look Zoë, whatever this is about, it won't come between our friendship," he promised, shaking his head slightly, unable to fathom what was wrong with her.

"How can you possibly know that?" she replied, with a lack of emotion emotion that scared Perseus slightly.

"Maybe I don't, but I know _you_ , Zoë, and that's a good a reason as any to trust you."

"That's the problem! You don't know me! You let me tag along without any regard to who I was, or where I'd come from. You're too naïve for your own good!" she exclaimed, and Perseus flinched back slightly.

"So…You're saying you wish you hadn't met me?" he whispered, looking down at the floor.

"No! I'm not saying that...Look, to say I came from a highly dysfunctional family would be the understatement of the century. I was a hesperide, an immortal guardian to the tree of immortality. My father is a heartless titan currently serving imprisonment for eternity. My mother? A whore who high-tailed it just after my sisters and I were born," he attempted to interrupt her tirade, but she would have none of it. She was on a roll, raw emotion pouring out of her very soul.

"That little mistake I told you about? A lie. I betrayed my family, my blood, for a man, and paid the price when he, in turn, betrayed me. I begged them for forgiveness, but they would have none of it. They cast me out from my home without so much as a second glance. I was bitter and beyond angry for days after, wondering around Greece aimlessly, but then I realised, I deserved it…I vowed, as did my sisters, to protect the apples of immortality with all my strength, but by falling in love and helping that man steal an apple, I broke that vow. Don't you see? I _deserved_ to be ostracised! I _deserved_ to be defiled by those sailors! I _deserved_ to be raped by those men on the road to Athens! I deserved it!" And with one final bawl, she stopped, her eyes forced shut, tears streaming down her face, and her whole body shaking in intense fervour, the like of which he had never seen. Occasionally, her chest would shudder, as if begging for her to cry out.

For a second, he was too stunned to move, his mouth agape. He mentally beat himself up for not noticing how emotionally distraught she was inside. He shook himself out of his momentary daze, and wrapped her into a tight hug, one hand on the back of her head, the other around her back, gently forcing her into his chest. The flood gates opened, and she balled her eyes out into his clothing.

"No, Zoë. You're wrong," he began, with the firmest voice he could muster, "No-one deserves to be treated like that, least of all you. Those people you called your family? They're nobodies, Zoë. I mean what I said when we first met; family don't abandon each other. You made a mistake, so what? It was a moment of madness, one that you fully regret, right? Don't _you_ see? It's not _your_ fault they forgot who you were, and what you were. This is on them, not you, you hear?" he reasoned, while still holding her head. Her emotional outcry had, admittedly, caught him completely off guard, and some tears were now escaping _his_ eyes, as ridiculous as that was.

She gently withdrew herself from his grasp, and took a step back, meeting his eyes. His heart panged at how broken she looked, in complete contrast to how she was a day earlier. Again, he mentally berated himself for his lack of awareness. He had realised she was hiding something before, but had selfishly made it about himself, instead of thinking about how it affected her.

"I still broke a solemn oath, Perseus. How can you ever trust me again? Especially when you now know my story," she asked, her voice raspy and hoarse.

In response, he grabbed her upper aims, shaking her slightly, as if to break her out of the flounder she was in.

"Family trust each other, and as far as I'm concerned, _you_ , Zoë Nightshade, _are_ my family. I won't desert you like those in the past did," he said, using the same firm, hopefully cogent voice that he had used earlier. Internally, however, he prayed he was saying right thing. Was it presumptuous of him to refer to Zoë as 'family'?

"You truly mean that?" she sniffled, her eyes lighting up in hope.

"I do," he smiled, pulling her into another hug, which she joyously reciprocated. He sighed, in a mixture of relief and contentedness, happy that at least some of her demons had been dispelled.

They withdrew after a few seconds, Perseus subtly missing the contact. Their eyes met momentarily, both having small smiles on their lips, before Zoë's faltered, and she averted her eyes to the ground. He instantly thought their prior reconciliation had failed, and she was back to her shattered psyche.

"I'm sorry for putting all that on you, Perseus. You must think of me some stupid, weak, self-centred _little girl_ ," she lamented, which dispelled his premature conclusion. He had to bite his top lip to prevent laughter escaping his mouth at her uncharacteristic self-pity, something he never thought he'd see Zoë, of all people, do.

"Never, Zoë. You are, without doubt, the smartest, strongest, most selfless _little girl_ I've ever met," he heartened, causing her head to whip up and a charming smile grace her lips, before quickly morphing into a smirk. She balled her fist and punched him in the arm, which Perseus took as a sign she was back to her _completely_ normal self.

"Come on, let's gather our things. We'll be there by the morning," he chuckled, rubbing his arm through the fabric, and turning towards the stairwell. She simply smiled in kind, following him with a slight skip in her step.

They were halfway down the stairs when a thought struck him.

He continued walking, but turned his head slightly towards her, asking, "So…Did I ever tell you how great you look in that dress?"

"I dunno, Orion. Did I ever tell you how much I like to hit you?" was her response.

"Once or twice, Ms Nightshade."

* * *

 **Short chapter(sorry), but an important one nonetheless. A bit cliché perhaps? I don't do emotional scenes very well, I think. Tell me if this is, or isn't the case. Also, if there are tense errors, I apologise. I've been splitting between the two on another project, and I've noticed I sometimes, subconsciously, split between tenses.**

dizzydaisy37 – Thanks, I'm happy to hear that. I did, in fact, consider an idea very similar to that, but I decided that it would be a bit unfair on the character, and plus, this isn't Game of Thrones! Can't just throw in a rape scene whenever I feel like it.

tris10hendrick – Thank you, meine herren!

Omega Alpha Hydra – Soon, sweet one, soon.

zzardBlader – Thanks, and no, I promise to see this out to the end, whenever or wherever that is. If the word has single quotation marks, it's not speech. I use them to emphasise err…things. Mostly nicknames.

Shigure Toshiro – Thanks. T'was fun completely changing how Chrysoar is portrayed in the books.

Thayes2014 – Sorry for the wait, but I'm glad to hear you liked it. I hope the rest doesn't disappoint you.


	10. Chapter 10

**Sorry for not updating, I got lost while Pokémon Go, and spent several nights in a ditch. Unfortunately for me, and I suppose fortunately for you, because I'm now finished for the summer, I no longer have an excuse not to update.**

* * *

"A Freudian slip is when you say one thing but mean your mother."  
~Bob Hope

* * *

 _Perseus_

Perseus all but skipped down the gangplank, feeling nothing but jubilation at being free from the bondage the ship had instilled upon him. His euphoria was short lived, however, when he paused on the dock to take in the area. He was left feeling idiotic when he noticed that Rome was a dump. Everywhere he looked, there were dirtied and dishevelled people, going about their business, and seemingly unaware of the state they were in. There were flocks of sheep and goats too, no doubt being led to their undoing, leaving a trail of mess in their wake. There was a certain stink to the place too. One that could be partly explained by said livestock, and partly explained by the sewer flowing directly into the Tiber, where several children bathed nearby. A few beggars lounged against buildings, some fortunate enough to wear anything other than ripped, dirt ridden rags, while 'shady' looking characters subtly searched through the crowds for their next target. The place was wholly depressing.

Mercifully, it was at least marginally cooler than what it was in Greece, but the solace found in that fact was completely lost in the vast heap of dismal sights, sounds and smells that could be experienced in the 'Hades on earth'. He was suddenly glad he had not spent the majority of his youth in an urban environment, if the view in front of him was universally applicable to every city in the known world.

A hand rested on his shoulder, but he couldn't wretch his eyes away from the sorry sight, his face contorted into a tight grimace.

"I've seen worse," Pholus said, suddenly appearing at his side.

Perseus scoffed at the thought of there being some place worse than what he was now. "Well I haven't. It's not too late to go back, is it?"

"The place has…a certain charm to it," the trainer said, though Perseus knew he wasn't mad enough to think the place had anything resembling charm.

"Charm? That's a funny way of saying repulsive in every way."

"Oh stop your moaning, unless you'd rather be at sea again, Perseus?" the titan's daughter teased. Perseus rolled his eyes. He hated boats, not the sea.

"I don't mind the sea, the sea is very nice, the sea is very pleasant. That boat, on the other hand…"

Pholus clapped his hands together, trying to appear enthusiastic. The sore sight in front of them, however, installed anything but enthusiasm in them. "Well, we're here. We might as well do what we came here to do."

They took a few steps towards the bowels of the city, before Perseus noticed Zoë's absence from their little group. He turned, and saw her staring up at the relatively tall, imposing buildings.

"What's the matter, Zoë?" he asked slowly. She jumped slightly, as if she had been broken out of a daydream.

She didn't reply for a few seconds, seemingly lost in her own thought train. "Nothing…It's just…I can't believe how far we've come, how far we are from home. When I was little, I remember questioning if there was a world outside of the garden. Now here I am, in a world outside the world that the garden is in. It makes you think…" she pondered, turning her thoughts into words.

He nodded absentmindedly. He understood where she was coming from, and the same thoughts had drifted through his mind once or twice before. The world certainly was big. He then smirked, realising he could have fun with her strangely evocative words.

"How poetic," he laughed. "Are you sure you're the Titan of Strength's daughter?"

She punched him in usual fashion, though seeing how her eyebrows furrowed in annoyance at his childish antics made it completely worth it.

"Oh, I'm quite sure," she said, with a devilish smirk of her own that put his to shame.

He rubbed his arm, her punch all the proof he needed to know it was true. "Come on, Chiron awaits!" he bubbled, before grabbing her hand and running off into the city.

* * *

They spent hours wandering through the city, taking in the sights, avoiding trouble, and generally absorbing the city atmosphere. The narrow, winding streets seemed to never end, and Perseus thought it possible that there really was no end to the city. Rome was certainly an experience. Positive, or negative, he couldn't decide. There was widespread poverty, for sure. The docks only a small example of some of the squalor people conducted their daily business within. But the fact that it existed in the first place, the vastness, the aliveness of it; that made it an accomplishment in its own right.

His eyes kept darting to Zoë during their unguided, undirected tour. Her eyes were constantly wide at the array of spectacles on show. He would have laughed at her intrigue, had he not been in the same boat himself. He too had a light skip to his step, but while he may have considered himself secluded from the urban world, he knew it was nothing compared to the isolation Zoë had grown up in. Indeed, it must have been a massive culture shock when the largest _thing_ she grew up with was a tree that had a serpent wrapped around its trunk.

They paused besides an elegant fountain that lay in the middle of an enclosed square. On three sides stood the usual sand coloured houses they had come to recognise, their red-brown roofs a common sight elsewhere. On the fourth side, however, were marble steps leading up to a temple of sorts. Several priests and temple goers lingered outside, the sun brightening up the whitened building considerably. Several merchants peddled their goods in the square, while relatively well dressed residents went about their business. All in all, and in contrast to the majority of places they had visited, it was rather pleasant. The steady sound of running water, coupled with the sun's heat provided a peaceful setting, one that Perseus felt himself enjoying.

He turned to Pholus with a content puff of air, a small smile gracing his lips.

"So, when do we meet Chiron, O' mighty and wise trainer?"

"Whenever you want. You're the one leading here," the man shrugged and in an instant, Perseus's smile fell.

"I don't know where he lives, though," he confessed.

The trainer whipped his head around to face him, turning serious. "I don't know where he lives either."

It was now Perseus's turn to whip his head around, his mouth ajar, and heat in his face rising. "I thought you knew where he lived!" he exclaimed.

"I thought _you_ knew where he lived!"

"You're the one in charge here! We're both following you!"

"I thought _you_ were in charge here! This is your bloody quest! We were both following you, right Zoë?" Both turned their heads to stare at Zoë, who stood awkawardly off to one side, one hand holding her arm.

"I'm not getting involved…" she muttered after a few seconds, before turning and walking away from the trivial argument.

The two didn't speak for several moments, Perseus feeling slightly betrayed, though he would concede that it was technically his quest. He wouldn't back down, though, and rather embarssingly, the arguments got a bit childish.

"You're a lot older than me, therefore, you outrank me!" he said, turning his head back towards the man who reciprocated.

"I outrank you on a lot of things. Strength, intelligence, good looks, to name a few, but navigation is not one of them," the 'adult' stated matter-of-factly.

Silence followed, Perseus, petty as he was, not wanting to go lower than the supposed adult of the trio. He turned, staring at the water that rushed out of the ornate fountain head.

"What now, then? We're completely lost with nowhere to go," he said, almost to himself.

"Didn't that father of yours tell you where Chiron lived?" the adult asked, joining him in looking at the strangely captivating sight of jetting water.

The boy rolled his eyes at the nonchalant way of referring to his father, as ironic as that was coming from someone who wasn't exactly the most respectful of authority figures. "That _father_ of mine is Poseidon, God of the Sea's, and no, he told me where he _used_ to live, not where he currently lives."

"And why didn't you ask him for directions?"

"I dunno. A lot was weighing on my mind. I had just found out my mother was an all-powerful titaness, and my father the sea God, I think I can be excused for neglecting to ask about a precise location."

Again, the atmosphere reverted into a deafening silence, this time uncomfortable, at the mention of his mother.

"Well, where did he used to live? Surely Poseidon gave you _some_ clue as to his whereabouts," Pholus persisted.

"He said that he resided on Mount Pelion, and we would find him in Rome. That's it."

"Chiron is a centaur, is he not? It is doubtful he'd take up residence in the middle of this mess."

Perseus agreed. Unless Chiron had some magical way of hiding his lower body, there was no way in Hades he would stay in a massive city like Rome.

"If he lived on a mountain before, perhaps he would live on one again."

"I know some of these buildings are pretty tall, but I think we would have noticed a mountain in the middle of the city."

In spite of himself, Perseus couldn't help but snort in amusment at the terrible joke. Pholus really was the opposite of bombastic. For all his jokes about his own superior intellect, the man really acted like he was 20 years younger than he actually was. Perseus still didn't know anything about him.

"The outskirts then. They still count as 'Rome', right? Perhaps we can ask the locals for any clues. Do you speak errr…whatever it is that they speak over here?" the boy asked, already knowing what the answer was.

"Nope. Do you?"

"Nope…Perhaps we should have prepared better…"

Zoë chose that moment to rejoin them, kicking off with a characteristic swipe about his matureness. "Seaweed Brain actually preparing for something? That will be day."

"Hey! I'll have you know I'm quite an organised person when I want to be," he said, though in actuality, he would freely admit he was not an organised person at all. Zoë had to remind him to retrieve his bow from his hiding spot several times, before he actually went and did it.

"Sureee. I bet you used to run outside with no clothes on because you forgot normal human beings actually cover themselves up," the black haired teen quipped, causing Perseus to turn red at her 'more accurate than he would've liked' statement.

"In case you haven't noticed, _Nightshade_ , I'm not exactly a normal human being…And anyway, I used to forget shoes, not _all_ of my clothes, thank you very much. Now, as much as I would love to discuss my very interesting childhood, we should get moving, and unless Captain Foresight over there has any of the local currency, it looks like we'll be camping under the stars," he quickly digressed, knowing that an argument with Zoë was an exercise in futility. She simply had the bigger vocabulary.

"I do not. Judging from the stares and dirty looks we've been receiving, I don't think we'd be welcome in any inn's anyway."

"Stars are better anyway," he deadpanned, before making off in what he hoped was the right direction, not bothering to check if the other two were following.

* * *

The 'outskirts' weren't really outskirts, as it turned out. It took the trio the best part of the next day to get to the mountainous area to the east of Rome. The walk was relatively pleasant, at least. There was a slight breeze blowing in from the south-west that made the hot weather bearable. For the most part, they walked in comfortable silence, taking in the new scenery, and occasionally pushing Pholus into the undergrowth when he wasn't paying attention. However, the further they walked, the more apprehensive and nervous Perseus felt.

His father had told him he would have to prove himself, something that he had technically failed in doing. Yes, he had the apple, and Poseidon knew it, but he hadn't exactly acquired it in the fashion in which he was asked to, a fact which didn't make him feel particularly bad. His father had given him a quest that was nigh on impossible even to the most experienced of people. Indeed, the thought that his father had even given him a quest that could quite easily have killed him didn't make him feel too much either. He was alive, and if he had died, well, he wouldn't be able to complain anyway.

He could simply hand the apple over to Chrion and no-one would be the wiser, but he reconciled that the Trainer of Heroes might have ways of seeing through his trickery, plus he wasn't exactly one to shy away from his failings. Above all, it was the aura that emanated from the apple itself. He remembered the rush, and the temptation he had experienced when he first touched it. It was almost overpowering, and he had been very close to taking a bite, sorely tempted to experience the one thing people craved most.

He hadn't though, and the more looked at it, the more he left the warm heat of his bedspread at night to hold the golden fruit, the more he realised it wasn't meant for consuming, or at least not for a long while. It had an aura, a hum of power that, rather than making him _want_ to eat it, it whispered to him 'not now' every time his fingers went near it, over and over, until Perseus was sure it had a special purpose in life, other than giving a truly treasured gift. Thus, his reluctance to hand the apple over, and explain how he came to possess it.

* * *

The hours dragged on, the trio aimlessly roaming the valleys and hills, searching for any clues as to Chiron's whereabouts.

By a stroke of luck they chanced upon a remote commune, nested between valley walls, well hidden from any prying eyes. It was an off the grid type place, several red roofed buildings lining a single dirt street that wound up the valley wall, straight to a larger, more important looking building overlooking the rest. Trees of a vibrant, deep green covered almost every space that didn't contain a house, the only flat space in the form of a large, rectangular clearing that looked suspiciously like the training field back home.

Immediately, Perseus knew they were in the right place, and the large, hand-painted warning signs that lead to the little hamlet all but confirmed it. They entered, vaguely aware of the eyes following from the shadows. The place wasn't deserted, that was for sure. Laundry hung from windows, while a shallow basin filled with what looked to be blue paint sat idly in the middle of the street, the building walls half covered with blue splotches, some of which dripped and ran.

The wind stilled, and the birds stopped singing in the distance. His chest tightened, in response. Again, the feeling that the whole place wasn't right, that he wasn't meant to be here, filled him, like it had done on the boat. Something, or someone was watching them, he was sure. At one point, he thought he saw a shadow dart across his peripheral vision, but when he turned there was nothing. He kept himself tense, his fingers occasionally brushing the knife he kept in his belt in an act of self-reassurance.

They paused for a second in the middle of the street, Pholus tapping him on the shoulder and putting his mouth near the boy's ear. "I think we're being watched, Perseus," the man whispered, and Perseus had to resist the urge to roll his eyes.

"Of course we're be-," he began to reply, but his words were drowned out by the explosion of activity. Shutters flew open, figures appearing the windows with bows drawn, all pointing at them. The trio immediately began to ran for it down one of the side passages, but in an instant, several more figures appeared, this time on roofs, surrounding them on all sides. There was no escape, and Perseus knew it. He silently berated himself for falling into such an obvious trap. They hadn't even had the time to draw their weapons.

He raised his hands in surrender, slowly and carefully walking back to the street centre so they were in plain sight. He peered up at their ambushes and took a brief second to look them over. They were in a poor state, that much was clear. Dirt caked their faces, most of them wearing clothes that were either ripped, or were 3 sizes too big. They were young too, some several years his junior, which further added to Perseus's embarrassment.

A shout was resonated across the still, and silent village, and 3 more figures appeared, this time on street level. Unlike the rest, they were actually relatively well dressed, wearing familiar, ornate greek cuirass and Corinth-style helmets that covered almost all of their facial features.

The middle of the three took several steps forward, bronze spear levelled at their chests, and then spoke in a clear, commanding tone that made it clear who was in charge of this outfit. Unfortunately, Perseus had no idea what she, for it was a woman that spoke, was saying. She talked in the local language, that while he could pick up some similarities with his own, her sentences were completely indiscernible.

"I'm sorry, we don't know what you're saying," he said in reply. Immediately, the archers on the roofs lowered their bows.

"They're greek!" one shouted, in said language.

The girl in charge raised her spear, leaning on it slightly with one hand, while the other removed her helmet. Perseus then found himself staring at a rather pretty girl of about his age with stormy gray eyes that stared back at him with intense fervour. Her face remained stoic, but her tense and rigid body gave off a feeling of unwarranted hostility.

"I think Chiron would like a word with you," was all she said, with the same emotionless she held on her face, before promptly turning on her heel, and walking towards the house on the hill, leaving no room for argument.

* * *

If any of you agree with me that Zoë is a bit stale, then I'd love to hear your thoughts. She's completely OOC, which is by design, but that's no excuse. Hit me.

GraphiicChaos – Thanks. I sometimes look backwards, but that's only because I have this fear that a knife-wielding psychopath is going to stab me.

Twilfitt77 – Thanks, that's high praise indeed. I shall endeavour to be consistent, though I will likely fail in that regard.

dizzydaisy37 – I dunno…I mean, compared to the opening scene of Up?

Kinjaz01 – For the most part, the Roman aspects will not remember much, other than having an inkling of what happened before. Artemis/Diana is an exception to the rule. They regain their memories after the flame moves again.

NONAME2002 – Nah, nothing like that. It was the chemtrails, man.

Guest – Thanks.

Shigure Toshiro – In hindsight, I should have dragged it on.


	11. Chapter 11

**You would've deduced who the first antagonist is by the end of this chapter. Sorry if you're underwhelmed. Also occurs to me there hasn't been an awful lot of fighting either. Sorry about that too.**

* * *

"If I love you, what business is it of yours?"

~Johann van Goethe

* * *

 _Zoë_

Perseus had been in the big house for a long time. With a great deal of nervousness and reluctance, she noticed, the boy had asked all parties present to give him some time to talk to Chiron alone. She tried not to feel perturbed at his action, but the fact that he wouldn't even meet her eyes when they walked out was enough for Zoë to know he was hiding something. He owed her nothing, she knew, but was it perhaps not wrong of her to feel even a little bit hurt? She had, after all, spilled everything, or at least, her biggest secret to him. Maybe not in detail, no, but the boy got the gist of her problems. It was still too painful for details anyway, whether she wanted to tell Perseus or not.

Brushing those mindless, borderline selfish thoughts aside, she did a quick one-eighty, taking in the surrounding countryside. Beautiful, sun kissed hills lining shallow valley's dotting the landscape as far as the eye could see. No cities, no civilisation, just tree's and grass, exactly how Zoë liked it. Rome was a wondrous sight in it's own way, but she definitely didn't want to live there. It was simply too chaotic for her taste, and she suspected Perseus felt the same way. No. This was where she belonged. Amongst the peaceful, rolling hills of central _Italia_.

She skipped down the pathway leading from the big house and into the village, a small smile gracing her lips as she went. At the bottom stood Pholus and the gray-eyed girl from their first altercation, both deep in conversation. She had intended to go off and explore the village, but the glaringly obvious absence of Perseus from her side put her off somewhat.

As she approached, the two continued their conversation, Pholus turning her way and giving her welcoming smile. Despite spending weeks together on a boat, she knew next to nothing about the man, yet she trusted him fully.

She smiled in kind, and then turned her attention towards their conversation.

"…the only safe place for people like us. Greece Is now a total no-go area," the blonde said, not even acknowledging Zoë's presence, much to her ire.

"Aspasia here, was just telling me about the demigod exodus from Greece. The God's have forsaken the place. Monsters now ravage every corner, from Mount Olympus to Knossos. She barely made it out alive," Pholus explained at her questioning gaze. Zoë nodded, biting her lip in an attempt to prevent a snort that was in danger of being let loose, upon hearing the blonde's name.

"My mother visited me in a dream. She told me to gather as many demi-gods as I could, and head for Rome. Unfortunately, monsters found us before we could leave. I…lost a few of my brethren. Chiron found us aimlessly wandering the countryside. He put us to work in setting up this place, so that Greek demi-gods would always have a safe place of their own. Unfortunately, that hasn't been working out for us so far…"

"What happened?"

"A group of locals came, demanding we leave or else the God's would smite us. We chose to ignore them, and everything was fine for a few days. New demi-gods were coming every day, nothing seemed amiss. One night, though, out of the blue, people started to go missing. We searched all over for them, but no one saw anything, no one heard anything. They would say goodnight, and never say good morning."

"How many did you lose?"

"We started off as a group of about 27. That number grew to 40 over several weeks. Now there's just 12 of us. Oddly, they left the young, inexperienced demi-gods, and kidnapped the more capable ones," the blonde explained, and Zoë frowned at the blunt, nonchalant way she referred to her missing comrades. Did she not care that they could be dead?

The daughter of Atlas was about to ask about why the trio of seemingly seasoned fighters had not been taken, Aspasia included, when the door to the big house opened, and Perseus walked out. His face was plastered with a mask of calmness, though his twitching, balled up fists told a different story. Zoë felt the blonde tense up beside her at the sudden appearance of Poseidon's son. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw her face slip into that expressionless façade she had seen when they had first met, in complete contrast to the air of sadness Zoë had felt when she had talked of her fallen compatriots.

"Well? What did he say? You were in there an awfully long time," she asked, once Perseus had completed the unnecessarily long trip from the big house, via the winding pathway.

He shrugged, raking his hair with his hand, something she noticed he would do when he was nervous, much to her amusement. "Not much, I'm afraid. He explained the situation with the village. He asked me to return the kidnapped demigods, in return for answers. I suspect he's holding a lot back," he said, though he seemed distracted, Zoë observed. They're eyes met, and as if sensing her inquisitive stare, sent her a tiny nod, one that surely meant they would talk later.

"How do we know they're alive, much less find them?" inquired the ever blunt Pholus, and Zoë had the urge to roll her eyes at his lack of tact.

"Chiron seemed pretty certain they were still alive. As for finding them, apparently we'll find clues in the Temple of Vesta, in Rome," he explained, again, shrugging, as if he didn't particularly believe it himself.

He turned to Zoë with a smile that didn't quite match his unique, mismatched eyes.

"I assume you're with us, _Nightshade_?" he asked, his banter audibly dampened, though she decided to ignore it, and instead play his game.

"You're on, _seaweed brain_ ," she responded, and he smiled. A genuine smile, this time, one that met his eyes. She couldn't help but smile in turn, happy that she could cheer him up with just the use of an awful nickname.

He then turned his attention to Aspasia, whom she noticed was shaking slightly, though her standard mask of stoicness was ever present.

"And you? Chiron said we might need the extra hands," he suggested, Aspasia freezing when he referred to her.

"Why would I want to help you!" she exploded, her pent up anger seemingly detonating all at once.

Perseus flinched back in shock, and Zoë couldn't help but do the same.

"Have I…err…done something to offend you?" he questioned, taking a few seconds to get over his initial shock. Aspasia was red faced, ready to spontaneously combust at any moment.

"Your existence is offensive enough!" she exclaimed before promptly turning on her heel and stomping away, likely to stop herself from getting physical.

"That was…unexpected…" the sea god's son said, his eyes rooted at the spot where the blonde had seethed from view.

Zoë nodded absent-mindedly. There was something off about the blonde. Whether it went further than a petty grudge, she did not know.

LINE

The Temple of Vesta wasn't difficult to find. It was located in the heart of Rome, right next to the Forum. Unfortunately, it did mean walking through some pretty uptight area's. The closer they neared the centre, the more snobby the people got. Zoë didn't think they were dressed all too badly, but apparently they stuck out like a half-naked Spartan general in the Athenian democratic assembly.

Pholus basked in the dirty looks he received, his head held high and humour gleaming on his scar torn face. Perseus, on the other hand, like she did, clearly didn't enjoy the attention. His pace was brisk, wanting to get away from the multitude of eyes that followed him. He silently glared at the pavement as he went, and Zoë had the real urge to shout at those who stared.

Luckily, the area immediately surrounding the temple was in a quiet, enclosed area, behind the forum itself. It was also dusk, so there weren't many people around, a few stragglers here and there.

The trio paused in front of the marble steps leading into the elegant, but understated temple. The

They were silent for a while, gazing intently at the strangely hypnotic, red hue, before Perseus turned to them.

"We should split up, find out what there is to find out, and leave. I don't think we should stick around for very long," he said, the light provided by the hearth illuminating once side of his tanned face.

"Sounds good. Meet back here?" Pholus replied eagerly, his hand gripping his sword tightly. The man was way too enthusiastic for a fight that, by all accounts, probably wouldn't happen.

Perseus said nothing, instead turning to Zoë once more. "Go with Pholus up the main entrance. I'll skirt around the back. He'll protect you a lot better than I ever could. You still have my knife, right?"

She bit her lip, but nodded in response, her hand instinctively floating to her thigh where the knife Perseus had given her before gallivanting after an apple, rested. She had hoped they would have some alone time, mainly so she could ask him what had him so subdued.

"Good," was all he said before unceremoniously turning on his heel and moving to walk away. She quickly grabbed his arm before he could get more than a yard away. Her cheeks reddened instantly, but she didn't remove her arm.

"Are you alright, Perseus?" she asked, deeply concerned at his sudden and unexplained shift in mood.

He didn't turn to face her, his chest rising and then falling in a deep sigh.

"I'll be fine," he answered, before gently removing himself from her soft grasp, and walking off around the back.

As Zoë watched his slowly retreating, she couldn't help but ask herself if she was somehow to blame for his contagiously low spirits that were now starting to infect her.

It was weeks before she had her answer.

* * *

 _Perseus_

Without a doubt, the headache Perseus awoke to was the worst pain he had ever experienced. Whoever, or whatever had knocked him out, did a great job in making sure he felt it. Indeed, it was like the sky itself had been dropped on his head and he was now experiencing the aftermath.

He reluctantly opened his eyes, expecting to be assaulted by a wave of light that would surely add to the headache currently afflicting him. Instead, nothing changed. No assaults on the senses, no overwhelming brightness, no difference in discomfort, only darkness, and with a hint of desperation, he blinked several times in quick succession, hoping, praying, the world would burst into light. It didn't. He tried to move his hands, but so numb were they that the now useless appendages wouldn't follow any of his commands. It didn't matter anyway. The stiffness in his shoulders and the light _clang_ of metal was enough to tell him he was in shackles.

He released a long, pained groan that echoed around whatever hell hole he 'found' himself in. The smell, while putrid, was not strong enough for the place to be a sewer. The faint sound of running water pointed to a cave of sorts, not that the idea of being imprisoned in a cave was particularly pleasing.

He racked his brain, trying to remember how he had fallen into such a mess, to no avail. He couldn't think straight through the layers of pain.

He snorted in blackened amusement at how totally random the situation seemed. However, a wave of searing hot pain tore its way through his head, clearing his mind of any humour he found in the present situation. Whoever had hit him had really done a number on him. It seemed they had given him the full Herculean, 'here's my head, please bash it in', treatment.

Something crawled over his outstretched leg, and he immediately stiffened in response. Whatever it was, it was small with sharp claws; probably a mouse or a rat. With a growl, he violently threw his legs up, the miniscule amount of weight on his legs disappearing, and not a few seconds later, a pathetic squeak resonated around the pitch blackness. He sighed, relieved, thinking the only way the day could get any worse was if he caught some kind of incurable disease.

As if part of one massive joke, his day got a lot worse, and it wasn't as a result of some illness that would devour him from the inside.

"I see you've acquainted yourself with your roommates," a deep, menacing voice called, and instantly, all the hairs on Perseus's neck and arms stand on end. The room, if at all possible, darkened even further. The temperature dropped considerably, and he had the sudden, screaming urge to run far, far away from there.

He forced his head to turn where he thought the speaker was. Even so, he couldn't bring himself to respond. He choked on his words as he spoke them, resulting in unintelligible sounds, not unlike the ones toddlers released.

Then, as if someone had taken an axe and cleaved his head in twain, but without the satisfaction of dying as a result, wave after wave of pain hit him. Pain that made 'the worst pain he had ever experienced', pale in comparison. He writhed and thrashed against his tethers, with each 'swing of the axe' indecipherable and unclear images flashing through his mind. He bit down his lip until he was sure blood was pouring out in an attempt to prevent himself from screaming. He wouldn't scream, not when it would serve to satisfy the speakers clear lust for sadism. Instead, the only sounds that escaped him were the occasional vibrations that escaped his throat, and the scraping of flesh on jagged stone, as his legs spasmed.

The assault abruptly stopped, leaving Perseus limp, weakened beyond measure, and panting heavily.

"Impressive…Most people give up and die after a few seconds, but not you Perseus. Truly, you are the one," the speaker said, his voice now absent of the veiled energy released with his prior words. The man actually sounded happy to see Perseus alive.

He continued to breathe heavily in his shackles, not trusting himself to respond.

The sound of footsteps against the damp cave floor filled his ears. The more they drew closer, the more Perseus felt an irrational fear build from within his chest. Maybe not from the man himself, though he would be lying if he said the speaker didn't install some type of apprehension, but definitely the man's presence. He seemed to just radiate fear, so much so that it almost had no effect. It was too artificial, too inexplicable, to be proper, everyday fear, that often controlled people's lives.

As the sound of footsteps got closer, two dark red eyes gradually appeared out of the darkness, until they were so close, Perseus had to crane his neck painfully to meet them. They paused in front of him, and then quickly lowered to his level. He assumed the red eyed heathen was kneeling because nothing else was visible apart from the unearthly eyes, piercing into his helpless soul.

The eyes creepily probed him, somehow seeing in the lightless void, occasionally narrowing or squinting. Irrational fear aside, Perseus felt nothing short of uncomfortable under what he had assumed to be a man's gaze, though what kind of man spoke fear, and had red eyes, he didn't know.

"Yes…yes…you'll do nicely. With you at our side, fear and panic shall rise once more, and those spineless _Olympians_ will be none the wiser," the man said after a while, almost talking to himself, as if Perseus wasn't there. Or maybe he just didn't care.

The man was nothing short of psychopathic, so either of the two could be true. "W-what makes you think I'll h-help you do anything?" the 16 year old stuttered, finally finding his voice.

Despite the darkness, Perseus knew the man was smiling. "You misunderstand me, boy. It was not a request. We know who you are, what you are. We know what the fates so kindly bestowed onto you. You _will_ help us. It is merely a question of how," the man promised, and if Perseus hadn't felt vulnerable before, he did now. He shifted uncomfortably in his chains. No one, bar a select few, were supposed to know about who he was. Either someone had told, or Perseus was in the company of someone far more powerful than he realised.

He decided to stop thinking about who, or how his secret had gotten out. It was pointless in the situation he found himself in. Instead, he resolved to gather any information he could.

"You said 'we', as if there were more of you," he asked, hoping to at least discern the identity of his captor.

"Ah, yes, my slightly dim-witted, crazy brother. You will come to know him, and I, very well, I'm sure. After all, we _do_ have _eternity_ together," the man avowed, all the while speaking in a tone that made it clear he was telling the truth, minus the 'eternity' part. There was no way in Hades he was spending eternity with a crazy sadist who certainly belonged in a jail cell somewhere.

The man abruptly stood up, and walked out, laughing manically, like he had just made the funniest joke in the world, leaving Perseus with nothing.

He spent the next few hours in complete darkness, half wondering how to get out his current predicament, and half wondering if he had just been kidnapped by a colossal pervert, before he succumbed to exhaustion and sank into a dreamless sleep.

* * *

 **Couldn't think of a decent Greek name for the Daughter of Athena so I just went with an Anti- Aptronym. I won't name names, but please inform me if I did the 'antagonist' right. I haven't read the book he is portrayed in.**

Thundercade – Thanks. I'm especially glad to hear Zoë's character is perfect. My ego inflated several inches at that one. There will be an increase in PoV switching, something that I'm usually not keen about, but I think is quite important for the next few chapters.

Kinjaz01 – Perhaps.

The Sorrowful Diety – True, but stale bread is stale bread.

Drakenn – Maybe. It seems that is the thing most readers have a problem with, or there are more things but they simply don't tell me.

Omega Alpha Hydra – Relieved to hear that. As for Pokémon Go, I haven't actually played it. I just said it for comic effect. Whether it was funny or not remains to be seen.

Shigure Toshiro – Ta.


	12. Chapter 12

**40,000 words, 37,000 views, 405 follows, 266 favourites, 100 reviews, 13 chapters, 3 communities, and still going strong. Well, if you count an update every three weeks strong, then yeah, strong! Thanks!**

* * *

"Don't be so humble - you are not that great."

~Golda Meir

* * *

Zoë

Waking up to an old woman bleating what Zoë assumed to be expletives and waving a very crude broom in her face was not how she wanted to start the day. In fairness, sleeping on the stone steps leading to the temple was not how she wanted to spend her night either. The two had sat on the steps for hours, waiting for Perseus to return, but when he didn't, dozed off, not wanting to look for him, just in case he showed up while they were gone **.** Thus, the old woman waving a broom in her face.

"Pholus…" Zoëmuttered, as she wiped theweariness from her eyes and stretched her limbs, groaning when a jolt of pain resonated through her upper-back. Sleeping on solid stone hadn't been the smartest of ideas. The question of Perseus's whereabouts crossed her mind. Something had happened to him, she was sure. He simply wasn't one to leave them in the dark over any sudden change of plans. On the contrary, he had been nothing but open to Zoë up until his private meeting with Chiron, but surely that was a coincidence? No. Perseus had been kidnapped, or worse, and Zoë mentally berated herself for not forcing his hand, for not going with him when he had insisted they split up. She just prayed he was alright. That's all she could do for the moment. They had checked the rear of the temple, of course, but that search bore no fruit.

The old woman continued to shout at them, but the only effect she had was that of making Zoë go slightly deaf at the constant barrage of high-toned screeching. Besides, the only word she could clearly make out was 'graecus', no doubt the woman thinking it was the perfect insult. Zoë stood up, the stiffness in her lower limbs apparent as she took a tentative step towards her now only companion. Pholus had failed to even stir. How the man could still be asleep, Zoë knew not.

Unfortunately, a crowd was gathering, and she preferred not to be chased out of the city so early in the morning.

"Pholus…" she muttered again, this time leaning down to his ear to say it. He stirred in response, but that was all. Zoë rolled her eyes at the man-child. They didn't have time for this. The crowd looked angry, and ready to chase them out of the area at a moments notice, while he was lying there asleep, his body sprawled across several steps in such a way that it made Zoë uncomfortable just by looking at his posture. It was exactly the kind of way Perseus slept. Undignified, but endearing. She blushed at the thought of Perseus's sleeping form…not that she watched him while he slept, or anything.

Pholus twitched, and twisted his body to get comfortable, breaking Zoë out of her chain of thought. Again, Zoë rolled her eyes, both out of gratitude and irritation. People in the small crowd started joining the woman in her wasted efforts at lowering the Greeks self-esteem. _We don't have time for this_ , she thought, and with a slight, angered growl, kicked the sleeping Pholus in the ribsslightly harder than she meant to.

The effect, fortunately, was immediate. Pholus shot up from his slumber with a shout of surprise, his hands frantically fumbling for his weapon. He then froze, his eyes settling on the crowd that had gathered, and then Zoë's amused, but slightly guilty face. He got the gist of the situation immediately.

"Uggh. I feel like Philippides after the Greco-Persian war," he groaned, clutching his lower back as he sat up against the stone steps.

"I'm pretty sure he died, and you certainly don't look…" she said, stopping herself when she noticed the sorry state the man was in. Dirt caked most of his face, as it did his hair, and the tufts of hair growing on his chin only added to the overly ragged appearance. "Well, you're moving at least, which is more than can be said for Philippides," she continued, and Pholus made no inclination that he heard, or understood what she was insinuating.

"I take it Perseus didn't show up in the night, then?" he asked, more or less rhetorically. It was obvious the man cared deeply for him, and she knew Perseus reciprocated that sentiment.

"He wouldn't just leave us like that…Someone must have taken him," she stated, shaking her head in worry.

The trainer rose from his sitting position, his bones cracking loud enough to make Zoë wince. "I agree, and I suspect it has something to do with the recent spate of kidnappings from the demi-god village. We should talk to Chiron at once. Perseus may not have that long…"

They gathered what little belongings they had, and removed themselves from the area, much to the joy of the woman with the broom, who must have thought she was the reason for their departure, clearly not realising that threats work best if the recipients can understand them.

The journey through the winding hills, and vast open fields was spent in silence. On a different day, Zoë would have loved the walk, and the welcoming coolness brought forth by the gentle breeze, but Perseus's mysterious disappearance weighed on her mind all the way back to the village. The more the hours dragged by, the more his absence became uncomfortably obvious. She felt self conscious, bare, without his close proximity, without his goofy smile, and dry wit. Above all, she felt less…safe.

Every snap of twigs, and rustle of leaves make her jump, and when she would swivel towards the sound, there was nothing amiss. A feeling of dread has settled in the pit of her stomach, and she became increasingly aware of her hands shaking uncontrollably, the more she walked. One hand grabbed the other, almost instinctively, but the feeling didn't settle. Pholus too looked melancholy, she noticed. His eyes were fixated to his front, glazed over in deep thought. The bustling city, with its passive dangers, had been one huge distraction that had gone unnoticed and unappreciated. Neither felt like talking, and so the peacefulness provided by the natural surroundings was proving to be a curse.

Unfortunately, the discomfort, and awkwardness seemed to make the journey go all the more slower, and by the time they reached the hidden demigodvillage, Zoë was both physically, and mentally, drained. The only positive she could see was the fact that Chiron might be able to provide some answers, if what Pholus had said was true. At that point, though, it was more blind hope than rational optimism, and Zoë could tell.

They trudged through the village street, dragging their feet and ignoring the obvious stares the village occupants sent their way **.** At least they hadn't been met with bows aimed at their faces this time. All of the occupants were seemingly busy, doing odd jobs such as painting building walls, and unlike when they had first arrived, the demigodsseemed to be noticeably more spirited, in contrast to the complete emptiness Zoë felt. Somehow she doubted it was because of their arrival, though, and still, that unmistakable aura of sadness clung to the place in troves, undoubtedly caused by whoever had kidnapped the majority of demigods that had only just recently taken up residence in the village.

They climbed the unnecessarily long, winding path that lead to the big house, Zoë having neither the energy nor mindset to complain about it. Pholus knocked on the door three times, before promptly opening the door with probably more force than was necessary. The front door led straight into a common area, where Chiron sat rooted to his wooden chair-on-wheels talking heatedly with the bi-polar Athenian, Aspasia. Zoë followed him inside, and couldn't help but stare at the interior decor, despite herself. The walls were covered by a multitude of relics, animal skins, and battle trophies. The place felt unnaturally old, like it had been standing in the same place for hundreds of years, but Zoë knew that wasn't possible. The little village had barely been around for 50, and the big house looked even younger than that.

Above the unlit fireplace was a breathtaking, woven tapestry depicting Perseus, the original Perseus that is, killing Medusa, the frightening snake-haired Gorgon. It was idealisedyes, but Zoë marvelled at its beauty all the same. Her feet moved on their accord, and she didn't realise her hand was inches away from touching it until a voice broke her impromptu trance.

"A monster wove that exquisite piece," the voice said. Zoë's head immediately swivelledtowards the sound, her arm frozen in place. Chiron was staring at her with those warm, timeless eyes that held a deep sadness. She looked back at her arm, surprised to find it where it was. It dropped immediately, and Zoë turned back to Chiron, ready to blurt out an apology.

"Sorry, I-" she began, but the Trainer of Heroes put his hand up to stop her.

"Don't worry, Arachne's art does tend to have that effect on most people. Just don't stare at it too long. Similar tapestries have been known to drive people mad," he explained, before revolving around to face Pholus again. Zoë looked between her hand and the tapestry for a second, before quickly jerking it away. She sensed Aspasia's eyes burn into the back of her head, as she removed herself from the tapestry's presence, but decided not to indulge her. Aspasia's outburst before the trio had left the village for the first time was enough to make Zoë think there was something off about her. It was merely a question of extent.

"I take it you didn't find anything of note at the temple?" the centaur asked, seemingly knowing what the answer was. Now that Zoë thought about it, Perseus hadn't actually told them what they were looking for, only where they would find it…whatever _it_ was.

"No, nothing at all, but more importantly, Perseus is missing," Pholus replied, his voice devoid of the playful spark it usually held.

Chiron sighed, as though he had heard similar news countless times before. His calmness never wavered, and Zoë realised Perseus's disappearance was just another problem that needed solving for Chiron. A large multitude of demigods had already been taken, a lot of them probably closer than Perseus was to the centaur. She empathised to an extent. She was feeling similar things, helplessness, and regret, chief among which. The centaur was in no position to go gallivanting off looking for them, and neither was Zoë, but this was Perseus, they were discussing. Her friend. Her best friend, and she wasn't going to sit around doing nothing like the centaur was.

"I gathered as much…You searched the area for him, I assume?" he enquired, his eyes holding the same timelessness that she saw every day in her father's eyes. Atlas's eyes, however, burned with pain, and anger, whereas Chiron's spoke of tragedy, and heartache. She shook those thoughts out of her head, and quickly vowed never to compare the two men again. They were different in every way.

Pholus took a step towards Chiron, clearly vexed at the Centaur's carefree attitude to the problem at hand, and Zoë was inclined to feel the same way. They needed to act.

"Why did you send us to the temple anyway? Why is Perseus missing? I know you know, Chiron. We both noticed his sudden change in mood after he finished talking to you. What did you tell him that had him so troubled?" he questioned, his voice getting increasingly louder as he spoke.

Chiron smiled sadly. "It's not my place to say. It is his burden to carry, and divulge whenever he wishes. I will not betray the trust he placed in me. He will inform you when the time is right, I'm sure. As for his disappearance...I think I have a vague idea as to what is at play here."

Zoë took a fiery, zealous step forward, upon hearing Chiron's words, imitating what Pholus had done seconds before.

"You know why Perseus disappeared? Tell us, Chiron! We have to find him!" she exclaimed.

The centaur raised his hands to calm her down, quick to dash the hope Zoë had of a quick, and easy reunion. "It's just an unsubstantiated hunch, and nothing more. Regardless, I don't think he simply disappeared, and I suspect that whatever attacked our village have something to do with this."

She moved to retort, wanting to know what the 'unsubstantiated hunch' was, regardless of bases, but the snide, arrogant voice of Aspasia beat her to the punch.

"Pure speculation, Chiron. For all we know, the idiot just deserted these two, and ran like a coward," she argued, condescension pouring from every syllable.

Zoë immediately whisked around to face the blonde haired Athenian, rage instantly building from the base of her spine."Perseus is not a coward!" she stormed. "And he's ten times the person you'll ever be!"

"Aww, defending your boyfriend are we? Save your breath, _little girl_. All of Poseidon's spawn are the same. I'd say you'd do well to remove yourself from his side, but I think that problem has already solved itself," the blonde sneered, smiling sarcastically at the coal-haired, former-Hesperide.

Zoë's face heated up in anger, her hands tightening into balls, as her whole body went tense.

"I am _not_ a little girl," she hissed, her voice dangerously low, and slow.

Aspasia continued to leer, looking down on Zoë as though she were several levels lower than her in the social order, while Chiron and Pholus looked on with bated breaths.

"Are you not? Hmm, perhaps I was wrong about Poseidon's bastard child. Perhaps it wasn't his fault he's gone. Maybe if you had been with him, instead of splitting up, you could have stopped him from leaving. I'm sure you have a vast wealth of combat experience, _little girl_. I'm sure it would have proven most useful had you been by his side!"

Zoë opened her mouth to retort, pent up anger threatening to release all at once. Pure rage begged for release, while her body shook violently. Then, abruptly, her mind processed what the blonde had said, and the overflowing anger subsided. Zoë's terse shoulders slumped, and the shaking stopped. Her head raised in sudden realisation. The blondehad slipped up big time. From the moment she had met her, Zoë had thought something was up with her. Her irrational hatred for Poseidon and his kids seemed to be the most prevalent of that 'something' but it stemmed deeper than just hatred. There was something _off_ about her.

The daughter of Atlas released a short breath of air through her nose, and composed herself.

"How do know we split up? Neither myself, nor Pholus told you what exactly had transpired, other than us not finding any clues at the Temple of Vesta," she said, her voice dangerously low, but at the same time calm, and collected.

The blonde looked stunned for a second, her mouth agape, opening and closing like that of a fish.

"Wha-what do you mean?" she stuttered, her composure completely lost.

"You said that we split up, but we never mentioned anything about splitting up," Zoë repeated. She had her.

"W-well I-I…" Aspasia stuttered, before pausing to collect herself. "Well," she continued, her stormy grey eyes more shifting from Chiron, to the floor, to the ceiling, anywhere but Zoë's eyes, "the spawn of Poseidon was clearly not in the right frame of mind when he left. I simply assumed his despondency would not waver by the time you reached Rome, and clearly, being the son of barnacle beard, he isn't smart, so,naturally, he would make an idiotic mistake, such as splitting up. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a village to defend," the Athenian babbled, but as quickly as she had uttered 'defend', the blonde made a break for the door, no one making a move to stop her.

Zoë stood rooted to the spot, shocked, with thoughts flashing through her mind a thousand miles per hour. Had Aspasia followed the trio to Rome? No, probably not. If she had, then why not just say? No. Zoë had caught her completely off guard. She was hiding something, something big.

"Perseus's sudden disappearance and the recent attacks on this village are no coincidence. I wonder, though…" the centaur pondered, his voice breaking the silence, as he stared at the door through which the blonde had exited, scratching his beard absentmindedly as he did so.

"Chiron, how do we find Perseus?" Pholus asked urgently. Aspasia would have to wait, for now.

The words shook the centaur out of a thought-induced trance. "Hmm? Oh, well, that's easy. Go back to the place he went missing from, and follow the trail."

"That's the plan? Follow the trail? What if there is no trail?" Zoë queried, incredulous that the legendary trainer of mighty heroes would merely suggest to 'look where Perseus had gone missing', though she felt emotionally exhausted, and her voice reflected that fact.

"There is always a trail, you need only look for it, and follow it.

* * *

 **This was quite hard to write. Mind went blank half way through, so sorry if it's as bad as I suspect it is. Thank you to Void of Shining, my beta, for this chapter.**

 **Fawnfeather – It's better like that. You'll get bored of my inconsistency, I promise.**

 **Shigure Toshiro – You're a robot.**

 **Omega Alpha Hydra – Neither had I, but the naming website said it was real, so who are we to judge?**

 **Craidom – Well, you know the future, it would seem. Please do be careful. Lot's of organisations will want your power.**

 **DarkerSideOfTheMoon – *Tips hat***

 **The Sorrowful Deity - As with all famous sites, they're almost always ruined in this day and age by crowds of tourists. Thus, picturesque valley's beat city ruins all day long.**


	13. Chapter 13

**If only I knew how to edit.**

* * *

"Write drunk. Edit sober."

~Peter De Vries

* * *

 _Zoë_

Admittedly, Zoë stormed out of the Big House when Chiron reiterated the fact that he could do nothing to help, other than advise them to look at the area Perseus had gone missing from. In Zoë's defence, the blonde she-demon was playing on her mind to no end, as was the sudden disappearance of her best friend, thus her shorter than usual fuse. Still, Chiron's unwillingness to provide coherent, and meaningful advice wasn't exactly helping her mood.

 _Three thousand years of training heroes, and he tells us to 'look where you last left him', as if Perseus were a set of lost sandals,_ she angrily thought, stomping down the unnecessarily long path, the thought of which only served to add to her ever mounting frustration. Five minutes alone with the person who had thought a long, winding pathway leading to the Big house was a good idea, might have cheered her up, but he was most likely indisposed at that very moment. Being in a box six feet underground tended to put a dampening on any physical activity.

She bowed her head, her eyes staring at the floor, while her mind wandered from Perseus, to the blonde, and then back to Perseus again. She thought back to his actions on the boat, when confronted with a blood-thirsty pirate who had a clear lack of morals. The feeling of utter dread, and trepidation when those brutes found her hiding in a stack of barrels. The wave of utter betrayal and hurt when Perseus had offered her to the Pirates, only for her to catch onto the ruse...The kiss she had given, then promptly running off before he could catch her blush. The sparks that passed through her body when they touched. The buzzing in the base of her stomach...She hadn't felt that way since...No. With angered growl, she kicked a pebble that littered the path, forcing her mind away from the man who had made her life miserable, the man who persistently visited her in the form of debilitating nightmares. She hated him with every fibre of her being… and yet, in a sick, abhorrent way, she felt a tiny smidgen of gratitude towards the double-crossing, bastard child of Zeus. He had illuminated her family, her blood, for what they really were, and likewise, without him, she never would have met Perseus.

Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted a mop of blonde hair in the village street. Giving into temptation, Zoë peered at the source, straight into the stormy grey eyes of the Athenian she-demon. Almost instantly, the heat in Zoë's cheeks began to rise even further under the arrogant, teasing smirk sent her way. Zoë wrenched her eyes away from the elder girl, knowing that she would do something violent if she continued to stare back. Besides, it was what the blonde wanted, and Zoë refused to give the her the light of day.

Instead, she set her sights on the flat training area that was littered with straw dummies, just begging to be ripped to shreds. Perseus had given her a crash course with the knife strapped around her waist, but when it came to actually sparring with the son of Poseidon, he usually had her on the floor with fifteen seconds, or so. Her inability to defend herself was a big problem, now that Perseus was absent from her side. She had no doubt that Pholus was a good fighter, but who would watch his back if he was busy looking after her? Besides which, if Perseus had indeed been kidnapped like she suspected, then whoever had subdued him must have been a skilful fighter to get the lid on the son of Poseidon. How could Zoë ever hope to rescue him if he, himself, had been beaten?

No, she would to have train. For herself, and for Perseus.

With her head purposely held high, she continued to walk down the annoyingly long pathway, towards the training field, out of sight of the blonde. Out of sight of anyone, in fact. From what Zoë had gathered, the training field remained largely unused by the demigods left in the village. Save the three Athenian guards, were either too young, or too weak to pick up a weapon and actually fight. Consequently, anyone of an unknown origin approaching the village is usually taken by surprise, direct confrontations being a non-option when the vast majority of the defenders were untrained children.

In the humid, still air, there were no sounds to speak of, save the occasional chirp of birds in distant trees. At the far end of the field, a hare casually grazed in the short grass, while the sun mercilessly seared the land that came under its endless gaze. It was peaceful, but Zoë was determined to break the silence.

She had no idea her fists were balled, and her shoulders tense, until her hand reached for the knife around her waist. The moment her fingers touched it, she felt the familiar buzz brought forth by the weapon, course through her veins. What it was, she didn't know. Perhaps it was the natural hum of the weapon itself, but Zoë liked to believe it was actually a small part of Perseus infused inside the weapon itself, calming her and providing the feeling of security that his physical presence usually gifted.

The faceless straw dummy stood rooted in front of her, helpless and unresponsive. Yet, in Zoë's mind, it was a dangerous, cold-hearted killer, who would love nothing more than to run her through with his inanimate arms.

She narrowed her eyes at the unfortunate dummy, and shifted into the low, preparatory stance Perseus had shown her.

All was still. All was silent. A bead of sweat slowly ran down her forehead, and a small fly perched itself on the corner of her unmoving mouth. Then she charged, releasing the pent up rage, frustration and unhappiness that had subconsciously built up within her, breaking the peaceful silence, just as a baby's cry pierces the night.

She swung at the head where the eyes would have been, imagining it to be the face of one of the sailors that had molested her on the boat. The dummy was blind. She slashed at the dummy's abdomen, imagining it to be the stomach of the man who had attempted to defile her, all those weeks ago. The dummy was bleeding. She grabbed the knife in both hands, and thrusted deep with all her strength, into the dummy's chest, imagining it to be the heart of the one that would dare take Perseus, her protector, her best friend, from her. The dummy was dead.

She wrenched the knife out, and the dummy fell to the ground with a soft _plunk._ Zoë stood over the the lifeless form, its entrails strewn around it. There was a crazed glint in her eye, yet she felt as calm as ever.

Her eyes shifted to the right slightly, and settled on the second dummy. Immediately, in her mind, it morphed into the frozen, helpless body of the one that had taken so much from her. She faltered for a second, his lifeless eyes fixated on her, while his mouth was curled into the teasing, arrogant smirk that had come to haunt her nightly.

When they had last seen each other, she had been on the floor, wailing endlessly at his betrayal. He visited regularly in her dreams, putting her through the same torture over, and over, until the sight of his face made her quiver in fear. Not this time, though.

She stepped over the silent corpse of the previous dummy who dared stand in her way, looking straight into the electric-blue eyes of her jailer, her torturer. She would not let him win, though. She would not be afraid of his monstrous face any longer.

With a promise to do exactly the same thing should they ever meet for real under her breath, she brought the knife down, wiping that ugly grin off his face once and for all.

The dummy fell to the floor with another light plunk, but unlike before, a massive chain had been cut loose from her body, one that she had been consciously dragging behind her, but unable to sever. Despite acknowledging that it was just a dummy, she felt better than she had for a long time. It was an insignificant, yet massive victory.

With the lead demon dead, the minions stood no chance, and so, the third dummy fell, as did the fourth, the fifth, the sixth, and the seventh. Strangely, her breathing became no more haggard than usual as the constant physical exertions went on. Her stamina had always been her strong point, yet even after a strong workout, she felt no fatigue, only dogged determination.

It was only when the twenty-fifth fell that Zoë stopped her frenzied massacred. A hand touched her shoulder just as the last dummy fell, the owner almost receiving a knife to the face, if not for her new found, lightning quick reactions.

Chiron stood behind in her in all his glory, four hooves planted firmly to the floor, gazing at her with those warm, understanding eyes of his.

"You're a natural fighter, Zoë. Perhaps you and your father are more alike than you'd care to admit," he said, withdrawing his hand upon receiving her questioning gaze.

She took a second to answer, turning her head back towards the multitude of slain dummies to hide the look of shock on her face. Mentally, she asked herself how the man knew of her parentage, coming to the quick conclusion that since Chiron had amassed knowledge and wisdom over the thousands of years he had been alive, it was only logical to assume he would know a daughter of Atlas when he saw one.

She sheathed her knife, turning back to the centaur who towered several feet above her. "We share some physical similarities, but how we look doesn't define who we are. In that regard, we are completely different in every way," she said. Not unkindly, but she was definitely adverse to the idea of being compared to her imprisoned father. "Besides, you are the son of Kronos, are you not? I don't see you waging any wars right now."

"True enough, true enough. Just...don't forget who you are, where you come from. You may want to, but I guarantee, one day, you will have to face those that did wrong by you, and when that happens, you'll need to be ready for it, for the sake of yourself, and your friends."

They stood in silence for a while, Zoë thinking on the centaur's words. She wanted to argue with him, of course. She wanted to scream that she wasn't running, that she knew who she was, but it would have been a blatant lie.

"I just...want to be happy again…" she said, staring up at those comforting brown eyes.

Chiron smiled warmly, as if he understood what Zoë was going through completely. "Find Perseus, defeat the enemy, rescue the kidnapped demigods, and perhaps then you will have your happiness," he said.

"You think I can accomplish that?"

"I know you can accomplish that."

He sounded so sure, yet Zoë was sceptical he could do anything the centaur had just said. She turned away from him, staring out at where the army of dummies once stood. She would try though. Even if she was fated to fail, she would try. And if she failed, then it wouldn't matter, because life wasn't worth living when it is devoid of happiness.

"What enemy are you-" she began to ask, but the centaur had already trotted away, leaving Zoë alone in the field of dead straw dummies.

She left, albeit, slightly reluctantly, for Rome with Pholus a few hours later. The trainer had argued that they had neither the time to waste, nor the clues to pursue, and so following Chiron's vague advice was the best course of action.

Fortunately, the sun was still relatively high in the sky by the time they reached the Temple of Vesta. The place was relatively deserted, though, unlike when they had awoken on the marble steps the morning prior.

They immediately set to work, scouring the area for any clues pertaining to Perseus's whereabouts. It wasn't long before they found one.

Pholus had wanted to split up and cover more ground but Zoë was quick to dispel that idea. To get the better of Perseus, anyone wanting to attack or capture him would have needed to take him by surprise. For all they knew, the ones who had attacked him were still in the shadows, watching them, waiting for the time to strike.

Cautiously, and with their fingers skirting the weapons belted to their persons, they inched their way around the temple, and into the narrow, cobbled street that clung to the temple's rear. Unlike the front, which was very nearly deserted, the back alley was completely deserted. An impressive gate, on top of which sat a bronze statue of a chariot racer, marked the end of the narrow passageway.

The position of the sun was such that the alley itself was illuminated, but Zoë could imagine that in the dark, the street would be a place fraught with danger. The small gaps between the points where two buildings met were just large enough for someone to hide down, and the lack of width between either side ensured no moonlight would touch the place after dark. Thus, it was the perfect location for an ambush.

"See anything out of the ordinary?" asked Pholus, his voice hushed and toned down, just in case there were any undesirables nearby.

She didn't reply for a second, her eyes shifting aimlessly around the alley, from the walls to the floor. And then she saw it. A thin line of dark red blobs, starting in the middle of the street and ending abruptly in front of a bronze circle that was seemingly cemented into the ground.

"Blood," she pointed, fear rising from within her stomach.

Pholus bent down besides the large gold coin and examined it closely. "Yes...Relatively fresh by the look of it."

"D-Do you think it's...Perseus's?" she stuttered, afraid of the answer. Neither were particularly pleasant to think about.

The man shrugged, before grabbing the indented handle. "There's only one way to find out," he heaved, lifting the coin out of the ground to reveal a pitch black void, most likely an entrance to a sewer.

She gave the black hole a quick glance, before examining the bronze cover. It looked to be a bit grandiose for a sewer cover. On the middle were the letters S.P.Q.R. in bold print, and below them, was the picture of a man with fire seemingly coming out of his mouth. Either that, or he was being sick.

"What does S.P.Q.R. stand for?" she asked.

Pholus shrugged, looking at the bronze coin for a second, before staring back down the hole.

"I have no idea but the fact that there is a fire-breathing giant below it, makes me think it can't be anything good."

There was a brief moment of silence, before Zoë too turned her attention back to the hole. "So...we just jump in?"

"I wish we had a better plan...but this is all we've got to go on," he said, sounding both angry and resigned at the same time.

A feeling of dread washed over her. She wasn't afraid of the dark or confined spaces, but a sewer was fraught with danger, and worst still, what if they didn't find Perseus at the end of it?

"It's going to be pitch black down there...what if we get lost?"

Pholus considered her question for a second, before promptly jogging off, back towards the temple entrance, before Zoë could even protest.

Fortunately, he returned with seconds, carrying a torch in his hand.

"Problem solved," he smirked, presenting the burning piece of wood to her.

Zoë rolled her eyes. " _A_ problem solved...Did you just steal fire from a goddess?"

"To help us bring part of our family home. I'm sure she won't mind," he shrugged, before crouching on the edge of the hole and dangling his feet down.

It took Zoë several seconds to process what he was saying. He had said ' _our family'_ not ' _my family'._

"You consider me part of your family…?" she questioned, just before the man jumped in.

"Perseus does, and that's good enough for me. Come on."

He hit the sewer floor with a light splat, indicating some sort of moisture. She would have been regretting bringing sandals if her mind had not been on what Pholus had said. The revelation should have made her joyous, yet she felt low. For what reason, she did not know. Did she want to be Perseus's sister, she asked herself. Deciding it didn't matter for now, she pushed those thoughts aside, and jumped in, bracing herself for the worst.

The first thing that hit Zoë, aside from the floor, was the smell. It was absolutely rancid, and completely overwhelming. She coughed several times, trying the clear her throat before she gagged uncontrollably.

Pholus lifted the torch, illuminating the tunnel somewhat, which was a big mistake.

Several feet in front of them was the body of a child of no more than 5 years old, face down in the blackened ooze. Zoë took a step back, as if punched in the stomach, her hands rising to her face to stifle the pained gasp that escaped her lips. The torchlight kissed the child's unmoving body, sandy blonde hair caked in mud, and skin pale, so very pale.

She immediately felt light headed at the sight, and the firm hand of Pholus grabbed her shoulder to prevent her from collapsing. She couldn't wretch her eyes away from the evil scene. It was like something out of the horror stories her sister's would recant to one another under the moonlight.

"I heard Roman mothers kill their unwanted children and dump their bodies in sewers so none may find them," echoed the nonchalant voice of Pholus. His words failed to register within Zoë, and there was a brief pause before he slowly began to guide her down the tunnel and away from the sad view. Her eyes never left the child, though.

* * *

 **Before you start, yes, the Ancient Romans did have sewers...they just didn't have round manhole covers on the surface...or maybe they did, I have no idea.**

 **SpencerDorman - Have you ever considered a career in the Church? You do seem to know an awful lot about god's. This is AU, as you pointed out, so I can pretty much justify anything...within reason. I mean, Pleione doesn't even have a page on the wiki, so I suspect I just made all of that up from off the top of my head. If it bothers you; it's not exactly a book-breaker...or is it? I have no idea. I never really thought about her mother that much.**

 **Omega Alpha Hydra - I guess it was more of 'I hate this chapter, let's get it over with' thing, more than a mind blank. Blondie is the name of the Good guy from The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly, but there's no danger of her becoming good in any way, shape or form.**

 **Shigure Toshiro - That's exactly what a robot would say...**

 **The Sorrowful Deity - This is set in about 100BC, so yeah, SPQR and all that. I was thinking of having a whole branch line with Roman demigods, but I decided against it. Was also going to have Percy kidnapped as soon as they arrived and then put into the Colosseum, as well. Kinda just want to move on to modern times as quickly as possible, really. Ideas are fine, but if you can't link them, into the bin they go.**

 **Fawnfeather - No problem. I'm glad someone enjoyed it.**

 **XKENDROIDX - Thanks, but I won't give too much away. As for the reveal, it sort of didn't matter too much. If he escaped her clutches, it wouldn't have mattered whether he told her or not. And seeing as she didn't tell the council for personal reasons, it doubly doesn't matter. Should see Artemis real soon, in any case.**


	14. Chapter 14

**Apologise in advance; this chapter might be a little boring, but it does thicken the plot.**

* * *

"If you get hurt, hurt them back. If you get killed...walk it off."

~Captain America

* * *

 _Perseus_

It was only in the aftermath of his third escape attempt that Perseus accepted that getting out of his subterranean prison was going to be extremely difficult. Indeed, his failure to anticipate the fire breathing giant that guarded the entrance to the cave was the reason that the first failed. He had spent a fair amount of time rubbing his bound hands against the jagged, stone floor in an attempt to free himself. Fortunately, the shackles weren't very strong and snapped without too much trouble. He couldn't believe his luck when he realised there was no lock on the door to his cell. It was merely a case of running his hands along the walls in the pitch darkness until he found the wooden door and then lifting the metal latch.

The limited amount of lighting on the outside alerted him to the fact that his cell was not located down a dead end, but rather on the side of a tunnel. To his left, the cave seemed to gradually lighten up, suggesting that it was the location of the cave entrance. To his right, it darkened considerably and his ears could vaguely pick out hush whispers originating from that direction. In his mind, it was a no brainer. He chose the former and again, couldn't believe his luck when he realised there were no guards to speak of. Perseus silently hoped that not all prisons were actually like the one he was in, otherwise criminals would be escaping left, right and centre. His opinion of the red-eyed man dropped considerably. Anyone who neglected to put locks on cell doors was not a smart person.

The tunnel gradually brightened and he broke into a sprint, rising from his slow, crouched walk that he had cautiously adopted. He could almost taste freedom. Unfortunately, he was so caught up in his mental celebrations that he didn't notice the club that was swung down in front of him until he ran straight into it at full pelt.

When he came to, there was a new pair of shackles on his wrists and just like when he had first arrived, his head felt like someone had sat on it while wearing a particularly heavy set of clothes. Still, Perseus was no quitter, and within minutes, the new pair of shackles had fallen to the stone floor with a heavy _clunk_. His jailers had neglected to put a lock on his door after his escape attempt which puzzled him somewhat. Why tie him up with rusty manacles that were just begging to be broken, and then leave the door wide open for him to escape? Not that he was complaining or anything.

Unlike before, he kept himself low and slow whilst traversing through the tunnel to the entrance. As tempting as it was to make a break for freedom, he wasn't particularly open to the idea of getting hit with a large stick again. Nonetheless, when the tunnel widened and the entrance presented itself to him, he couldn't help but spring up from his crouch, release a cry of joy, and make a final break for the entrance.

He was as near as ten metres from the tunnel entrance when the club was once more brought down in front of him. Fortunately, part of him seemed to anticipate the danger this time, and he skidded to a halt just before he smashed his head on the wooden club. There was a brief moment of silence, Perseus shocked that A. He had almost painted the club, which was really more of a medium-sized tree branch, red, and B. It had almost happened to him twice now. Still, prison did tend to make people irrational when it came to the prospect of escaping, he reconciled, though he immediately thought himself stupid for thinking that. He had only been in the dark, cold, damp cave for a matter of hours, a day at the most, and it wasn't as if he had been tortured heinously or even verbally threatened, discounting his foreboding, borderline abnormal conversation with the red-eyed man. They had even provided him a nutritious and wholesome meal of stale bread. It was awful, but it's the thought that counts. Stale bread was a far cry from no bread at all but either way, Perseus didn't plan on staying for dinner.

There was an outcrop in the cavern wall from whence the club originated from, and from it, appeared a man-no, giant, dressed in only a ragged loincloth and a small leather skull cap that didn't go further than the bottom of his eyelids. The giant had, apparently, opted to cover the two things most precious to him; his brain and his head.

Instinctively, Perseus took a few steps backwards and reverted to his _en garde_ posture, analysing his foe, readying himself for a fight, but all the while stealing hopeful glances towards the piercing daylight that was in danger of being blotted out by the imposing mountain of a man in front of him.

He couldn't glean much from the giant's actual appearance, however. The overwhelming light, welcoming though it was, made sure of that. What he could discern was the passive, emotionless, almost lifeless expression that matted his pale face. It was the face of someone who was driven by instinct alone - an animal, essentially. The giant was a guard dog. A ten foot tall, humanoid guard dog with bright orange chest hair and two opposable thumbs.

Without so much as a grunt, the guard dog lurched forward a lot quicker than his size suggested possible, swinging his club as he went and forcing Perseus to roll under it. Unfortunately, he didn't anticipate the fist that followed until it made contact with his cheek and sent him sprawling to the cold, cold ground before he could so much as grunt.

A feeling of _deja vu_ washed over him as soon as he woke up. There was the familiar feel of metallic shackles digging into his skin along with the usual cold, dampness of the air. The ground was hard, naturally, explaining the extreme numbness in his lower-rear end and the slight rustling to his immediate right signalled the presence of his furry, disease ridden cellmate.

Ignoring the massive headache that, like the dampness, Perseus was beginning to become accustomed to, he set to work rubbing the shackles against the jagged outcrops that carpeted the his earthen cell. All the while, the feeling that he was missing something played on his mind. He hadn't felt it prior to his last escape attempt and yet it was so noticeable that he was sure it was new. He racked his mind, trying to work out what that missing 'thing' was. Certainly nothing about his environment had changed, and he felt no worse than what he did when he had woken up for the first time. It was quietly nagging him, like a light itch that wouldn't go away.

The _crack_ and _ping_ of the chain snapping pushed his thoughts away from the 'absence' and onto his next plan of attack. He pushed himself to his feet, grimacing at the stiffness in his knees. Fingering his way along the wall in complete darkness, he felt his way to the door. There was no lock on it...again, though Perseus was beginning to see why that was the case. If you have a ten foot giant guarding the only entrance, there really wasn't any need for secure locks to keep prisoners confined. It was a silently arrogant arrangement that inexplicably annoyed him. He could essentially do anything except leave; the one thing he actually wanted to do.

Not even attempting to stay silent, he lifted the latch and forcibly pulled the door open. He was at a crossroad figuratively and at a T-junction in reality. The correct choice had been completely clearcut the two times he had been forced to chose prior. This time, though, he had to stop and think about things. To his left was freedom, and almost certainly a sore head. He was weaponless but frankly, even if he did have a weapon, he didn't feel too optimistic at facing the giant one on one. It had, after all, knocked him out in one swing...twice. Even his exceptionally fast feet hadn't been able to prevent that.

To his right was darkness, yet it was the direction that seemed to be the most alive. He had heard the whispers before and played them off as irrefutable proof that there were guards patrolling the complex, but now...why on earth would guards whisper when they were the ones supposedly in charge?

In the end, his overwhelming need to quench the curiosity that was eating away at his core won the game of tug-of-war. There was no way he'd be escaping anytime soon, anyway, especially if the guard dog was still doing its job. Besides, the cave wasn't a traditional prison in the sense that stepping out of line resulted in a harsh reprimand (Getting your head bashed in didn't count). Perseus couldn't be certain, but by the looks of it, he could break out of his cell whenever he felt like it, consciousness permitting, and not fear any sort of repercussions. Things could've been better, but quite frankly, they could have been a whole lot worse.

He first turned left, jogging down the narrow tunnel towards the entrance but going no further than the first cavern. Several torches flanked the entrance to the tunnel which connected said cavern and the area that contained his cell, providing the only source of lighting in the gloomy setting. He grabbed one, savouring the warmth that it provided before turning on his heel and jogging back the way he came, but not before sparing a glance towards the tunnel entrance on the other side of the vast cavern that lead to the entrance, to freedom.

Perhaps it was a little naïve of him, but he didn't feel overly down at his present situation. He certainly wasn't at the stage where he started to reminisce about his recent bad fortune and then simply think of something happy to raise his spirit temporarily. Ironically, thinking about how he wasn't at the stage where he would start to reminisce made him reminisce about his recent bad fortune. Fortunately, already knowing the script, he immediately began to think about happy things. Unsurprisingly, the familiar and comforting face of Zoë appeared in his mind with her black-as-oblivion eyes staring back at him. Now, incarceration did have at least one upside; he had all the time in the world, alone with his thoughts and he'd be lying if he said Zoë hadn't appeared in them often. When you're with someone twenty four-seven, you never truly appreciate how life could be without those you hold dearest near you. Pholus, too, was the same, but their relationship was completely different when compared to Zoë's. One the one hand, Pholus was a paternal figure, a close comrade and teacher, whereas Zoë was...well, their relationship was indescribable. Something more than a friend, yet they weren't lovers or together romantically. That said, Perseus was admittedly clueless when it came to relationships so perhaps his claims about their status were completely inaccurate.

Still, every sideways glance and brush of skin they shared stirred unknown feelings from deep within Perseus's core, yet their mysterious origin and meaning put him at a loss. How was he supposed to act on them? He could always tell her exactly how he feels, something that his frivolous mother would approve of, but if telling the truth meant jeopardising their close relationship, Perseus would not utter a word. His curiosity would not be quenched, and several feelings would go unexplained, but they would still be friends and at the moment, he wouldn't trade that for anything.

Brushing his dead end thoughts beside, he continued down the tunnel, passing his old cell and stepping into the unknown. As before, he didn't bother to muffle any sounds his feet made against the damp, muddy ground. If any guards showed up, well, he did have a weapon and he certainly wasn't passed banging a few heads together if the need arose.

The whispers continued to grow louder the further he delved deeper into the cave system and they reached their peak when he found himself standing in front of a rudimentary door that was really a jagged piece of wood that was neither tall enough nor wide enough to cover the archway completely. He paused in front of it, the whispers resonating around the chamber and the connecting tunnel so that Perseus could hear most of the mutterings coherently.

"When are we getting fed?"

"I'm cold..."

"Why do you always have to think about food!"

"You're touching my foot!"

"There are 10 of us crammed into a cell meant for two...I cannot not touch your foot!"

"Hey, some of us are trying to sleep, you know!" the voices went. They all sounded young, very young in fact. Voices can be deceiving, of course, but in Perseus's mind, none of them sounded older than he was, and when one of them had let slip that they were locked in a cell, Perseus immediately thought of the kidnapped demigods from the reclusive village.

In an effort to peer into the room for a closer look, he moved towards the door but inadvertently stepped on piece of rotting wood that had fallen off the 'door'. It immediately snapped under his weight, making his blood run cold and the hairs on his arms rise. For a moment, there was complete silence, the whispers ceasing whilst Perseus stood frozen in place.

"Whoever is out there; show yourself!" a more mature voice called from within. Whoever it was had tried to sound commanding but the fear that laced the voice was unmistakable.

Perseus momentarily berated himself for not taking note of his surroundings, before sighing heavily and opening the ruin of the door. Light from his torch immediately flooded the room, revealing what looked to be iron bars running from ground to ceiling along its entirety. On the other side of the bars were kids, loads and loads of kids, all crammed into the partitions. Their dirt ridden faces recoiled at the sudden show of light and many were huddled together, shaking in fear.

It was a sorry sight, one that made Perseus's stomach boil in anger at their abuse. They were just kids, the vast majority four or five years younger than he was. There was no doubt in his mind who was behind their imprisonment. The red-eyed man had not returned since their introductory meeting, the memory of which still made Perseus nauseous. The way the man had immobilised him with sheer pain and fear was simply unnatural. His actions and abilities were familiar though, like he had read about them before but simply couldn't recall who he actually was. In any case, anyone with that much power was sure to be bad news. Hopefully he could avoid any future confrontations and leave with his mind intact.

"Who are you?" a voice called out. Perseus whirled around to face it, causing groans and moans to go up amongst the jailed masses. The voice came from a girl of perhaps a year two younger than he was. She stood, leaning against the bars while her fellow detainee's huddled together behind her and yet she seemed unperturbed that her clothes were ripped, dirt caked her face, and that she was being held by an enemy far more powerful that she was. The glare the girl sent his way was just short of the ferociousness Perseus usually saw in Zoë on a bad day.

"My name is Perseus… If you're ready for a fight, I can spring you," he replied, fixing the girl with a steely gaze. With 50 or so kids on his side, perhaps they could overcome the giant that guarded the entrance.

Some of the kids perked up at the mention of escaping, but the girl's glare didn't soften in the slightest.

"How do we know you're trustworthy? For all we know, you're working for... _him_...and you're going to lead us into a trap!" she exclaimed, forgetting that shouting wasn't the best idea in a prison when the topic of discussion was escape.

Perseus jerked his free hand to his lips, trying to shush her. Whereas before, Perseus didn't really care if he got caught, knowing that he would end up back in his cell with the door unlocked, with the opportunity of escape now staring at him, he wasn't about to pass it by because someone couldn't be quiet.

He shifted closer to the girl's cell, whisper-shouting as he went. "Chiron sent me and friends to find you, but I was captured. Now if you want to get out of here, I suggest you keep it down while I work out how to break the locks!"

The girl looked as though she wanted to argue, and Perseus didn't blame her. He had been kept apart from them so he was a complete stranger, and the story he had given was vague at best. If he was in their position, he would not believe a word of it, but at the same time, what choice did they have? She bit her lip, staying silent, and Perseus took it as permission to start examining the locks.

It made sense that they had locked the kids up. Fifty could easily escape if they had the means to, whereas one on his own wouldn't stand much of a chance against the guard dog, especially when weaponless. Still, they could have saved themselves from so much trouble if they had simply put a lock on his door in the first place or even put him in with the other prisoners. Again, not that he was complaining or anything.

The locks themselves were rusted, so much so that the leading edge crumbled to dust in his hand. Perseus snorted at the flagrant lack of security. The kids could probably have forced the cells open with their feet, though the fact they had taken the precaution of locking them up but not taken the precaution of giving the cells new locks was slightly puzzling. If they were smart enough to realise that a large number of them could overcome the guard, why would they make it so laughably easy to get out all at once?

"You must hurry! If he catches us trying to escape…" the girl persisted, leaving her words hanging towards the end. Perseus didn't need to be told twice. He knew what 'he' could do.

The locks were pathetically weak, he concluded. A single strike from the butt of his torch would do the trick.

"Don't worry, I've got th-" Abruptly, the torch extinguished itself and the sound of a door being forced open at the other end of the room filled his ears. Perseus's head jerked towards the sounds. Immediately, the temperature in the room dropped noticeably, and Perseus couldn't stop himself from shivering from his head to his feet.

"Ah, Perseus, I see you're getting acquainted with your future soldiers. How nice to see a commander being one with his troops," the voice of the red-eyed man drawled, his voice sending a chill down Perseus's spine. To his left, in the cell, a few whimpers escaped the mouths of the occupants.

The echo of footsteps then filled the room, as did the sound of crackling, not unlike the sound dog claws make when subjected to stone flooring. They got closer and closer, until the red glow of the man's eyes was visible.

Perseus dropped the extinguished torch beside his foot, just in reach of someone in the cell next to him. Hopefully, when the red-eyed man was finished with him, they would take it upon themselves to escape without him.

The red eyes continued to draw closer, and closer until they were inches from his face, superimposed on the sheer blackness of the room. High pitched hissing to the right and left of the man indicated the presence of something other than humans in the room, but Perseus couldn't wretch his eyes away to discern what they were and neither could he stop the baseless fear in the pit of his stomach from rising.

"W-what do you w-want?" he stuttered, labouring to find his voice under the intense, blood red gaze of the man in front of him.

The room filled with the disturbing sound of laughter that was completely devoid of humour and if anything, went even colder.

"Perseus, Perseus, Perseus...We want _you_ ," the red-eyed man affirmed, before turning on his heel and walking back the way he came.

Perseus stood rooted to the spot, unsure what to do and very slightly disturbed, just as he had been when the man had made his first appearance in his cell. A sharp jab in his lower back along with a loud hiss gave him the answer he needed, and Perseus clambered to follow the man, walking deeper into the darkness.

* * *

There were no torches lining the set of tunnels they walked down, so Perseus often stumbled into walls when they suddenly changed directions. Whatever the thing was behind him would hiss and jab at him, as if it was his fault that he was born without night vision, forcing him to catch up to the man in front which in turn would force him into more walls.

Eventually, however, the tunnels began to widen until they reached a large chamber with a high ceiling and a raised platform lining the end. Fortunately, the vast chamber was well lit though it took several seconds for Perseus to become accustomed to the abrupt change in lighting.

With the darkness gone, he could now see who the red eyed man was in full. He was well dressed, for sure, wearing a glowing white tunic with blood red embroidery that matched his eyes. He was handsome too, Perseus supposed, in a sort of mischievous, bad-boy sort of way. There was no mistaking the plotting, calculating, almost evil smirk that matted his face. He looked every bit as powerful as his aura had suggested.

Beside him were the sources of the hissing and jabbing. Two creatures about as tall as a large dog flanked his left and right. Amphisbaenae, he recognised. Irises of bright green surrounded black, unintelligent slits that watched Perseus's every move. They were planted firmly to the floor with four scaly legs that were attached to an equally as scaly body, but the thing that put Perseus off the most were the two heads. One connected to the neck, and the other connected to the tail. Both heads spat venom, and they were utterly without mercy. If it came down to a fight, Perseus knew he would have no chance.

"What do you want with me?" Perseus asked, his voice steely but only because the man was a lot less off-putting when he was several metres away.

"You will help us overthrow the gods," the man shrugged, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

Perseus shook his head incredulously. He considered himself a decent fighter, if not a little experience starved, but taking on the gods? Thinking about it was pretty much suicide if they were listening in. "Overthrow the gods? You can't be serious. Even if I was going to help you, which I won't by the way, they're gods, and I'm not, in case you haven't noticed."

"The gods have been weakened severely by their little house-moving project. You, on the other hand, hold power that some gods can only dream of holding, you're simply to ignorant to realise it yet. Not to worry, my brother and I will unlock that power, and you will be unstoppable!"

Perseus had yet to see his 'brother' but if he was anything like the insane man in front of him, he was in trouble. Well, bigger trouble.

"Yeah, still not seeing the part where I actually do what you say."

The man started to walk towards him, his pets following closely behind. "I think you do, Perseus. We know what the Fates gave you. We know all about the curse you bare. We know that a specific object you hold will give us complete control," the red-eyed man drawled, pausing mere inches from Perseus, and smirking straight into his eyes.

Perseus had the sudden urge to back away, like his self-preservation complex was attempting to take control, but he held his ground and remained silent. How the man had found out about his little conversation with the Fates, he knew not. He hadn't even told Zoë, the one person he trusted most in the world.

Instinctively, his hand made to touch the string that was tied around his wrist, and it took all his willpower to stop himself. Fortunately, he was wearing sleeves and the way the man had eyed the amulet tied around his neck made Perseus think the man didn't actually know what he was looking for.

Those cold, blood red-eyes lit up at his inaction. "See! You do not deny it! At last, we hold in hands a weapon that lift us to the very top. Let a new wave of fear and terror wash over this torrid wasteland!" he exclaimed, and before Perseus could react, the man yanked off the trident amulet and retreated towards the altar.

Perseus stood motionless, like he had been punched in the gullet, but the hissing behind him shook him out his daze. The amphisbaenae were snapping at his ankles, and Perseus realised they wanted him to follow.

As soon as he stopped in front of the stone altar, there was a bright flash and out of it appeared a second red-eyed man, dressed similarly to the first. However, the new one was taller and more muscular, yet he had the same blood red-eyes. The first had mentioned he had a 'dim-witted' brother, and suddenly Perseus realised who they were. The first was surely Phobos, God of Fear, and the second must be his brother, Deimos, God of Terror. His mother had told stories about them, about how they held the reigns of Ares' war chariot in times of war. They were powerful, for sure.

The two siblings neglected to greet each other, the first, Phobos, instead raising the amulet into the air and gazing down on what appeared to be a book on the altar. The second, Deimos, met Perseus's gaze, and the pressure in the room rose exponentially, forcing him to his knees, despite giving his all to fight it.

"Perseus! Son of Poseidon and Selene! We hereby charge you to go out into the city of Rome, and cleanse its streets with the blood of its citizens! We command it!" Phobus chanted, but Perseus knew nothing would happen. There was a moment of brief silence, with just the occasional hiss echoing around the room.

He bit his lip to stop himself laughing. "Is that it, or…? I'm still feeling quite rebellious, you know."

The terrible twosome ignored his sass. "Why isn't it working…" Phobos muttered, recanting the instructions within his mind.

His brother backhanded him around the head and snatched the amulet out of his fingers. "You idiot! You must have said it wrongly! Let me do it!" he exclaimed, pushing his brother out of the way.

"Ahem. Perseus! Son of the god Poseidon, and the goddess Selene! We, the God of Terror, Deimos and the God of Fear, Phobos, hereby charge you to do our bidding! Go to the city of Rome and cleanse its streets with the blood of its citizens! We command it!" he chanted, and just as before, there was silence. Perseus decided to play along, though, otherwise they would be there for days.

He froze, levelled his head and made his eyes go wide. As rigidly as he was able to, he stood up, and slowly marched onto the altar, pausing in front of the twins who were giddy with excitement.

His stone-like face morphed into a vicious smirk. "My mother was a Titan, idiot," he said, before snatching the amulet straight out of Deimos's hand. To his surprise, as soon as his hand touched the trident pendant, it immediately grew into three-foot long xiphos, just into time to meet the first amphisbaena mid-pounce. It exploded into a cloud of golden dust, and Perseus turned, just in time to duck under the second amphisbaena as it too, pounced. The first head missed its mark, but the second managed to catch him in his forearm with its teeth.

Unperturbed, Perseus jumped up, swinging his sword in an upward driving arch and catching the second midriff. It too exploded in a cloud of golden dust, leaving Perseus alone with the two gods in the underground cavern.

Perseus levelled his sword at them, advancing slowly, knowing full well what they were capable of.

Deimos pushed his brother. "Call Cacus, you idiot!" he shouted.

Phobos fumbled for the goat's horn that was tied around his belt, before blowing it hard, the sound echoing around the room and beyond. For a second, nothing happened. Perseus's gaze shifted between the two twins and the door that was on the other side of the room, unsure who should occupy the brunt of his attention. Then, Perseus could start to hear heavy footsteps, like the pounding of a war drum, getting closer, and closer, until they abruptly stopped just when Perseus thought that the origin of the sound would burst through the door. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Phobos smirk in his direction, as if they had won. Perseus had a lot of fight left in him, and he tensed his muscles, ready for whatever would come through the door.

Slowly but surely, it creaked open, and a figure appeared in the doorway...

* * *

 **If you're still here, I commend your resolve. I might start updating this regularly again, but obviously, I won't make a promise that I can't keep. Tell me how I did, or tell me how I didn't. I don't mind either way. Before you start on me about that horrible cliffhanger, I was going to end it where the line break was, so you can consider yourselves lucky.**

 **Samhildanach - You've waited 21 days for this. I commend your patience and at the same time apologise for the disappointment you've just experienced.**

 **The Sorrowful Deity - I don't really know. I didn't exactly research how old he was, I just assumed he was born before or during the titanomachy and assumed that took place several thousand years back. As for pit stops...maybe. Originally, for sure. Now, though...just maybe. Probably not. Maybe.**

 **BlizzardBlader - Yeah, I think I sort of define the 'update on a sort of regular basis'. You're welcome, though. I'm only sorry that I don't have more time to update.**

 **PraetorFable - Not as good as yours, Praetorian, but thanks all the same.**

 **Shigure Toshiro - Hmm...I'm having a hard time believing you… Prove you're not a robot by telling me something that only a human would know.**


	15. AN

**This is somwhat against the rules but people break worse rules on this site and no one cares. Anyways. Read. Or not.**

 **I was in the middle of writing an update for Time Lost but my laptop was acting up so I hit it several times. Suffice to say that it's now broken so I put it to the hammer...so to speak...anyway, I have no other way of writing except via my phone so don't expect any updates. I might, but I might not. Will fix soon. Live long and prosper.**


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